Maid by Mistake - Miley Maine Page 0,5

had been thrifty, and they’d kept their belongings fairly minimal. I didn’t have to sort through a pile of junk to find what I needed.

I tossed my pillow onto the couch and laid down. It wasn’t a large couch, so my wide shoulders and my six feet and two inches barely fit. But on the couch, I didn’t feel the crushing pressure to sleep that I felt on the bed. Besides, I’d slept in barracks, on planes, in moving vehicles and on bare rocks with no blanket. I’d slept in the freezing cold, and the blazing heat.

My grandmother’s couch was practically an extravagance, compared to the other conditions I’d endured.

I shifted around, hitting the pillow with my fist a few times. In the moonlight, I could make out the shape of the red brick fireplace. I'd spent many winters sitting there with my grandfather while he described his service in the army.

He was a Vietnam Veteran, and he never talked about the violence or the death; he kept the stories funny. I knew he felt conflicted about the actual war, although he was loyal to the Army until the day he died.

One of my favorite things to hear about was his description of the MRE meals, and how they ‘did their best to spice up the dehydrated sludge that they called food.’

He was the reason I'd become a Navy SEAL.

I closed my eyes and pictured my grandfather talking to me, telling me about the spicy herb his unit had bought from a local farmer to add to their potato flakes. It had caused some serious intestinal issues. My grandfather’s voice faded, and I heard my commanding officer.

“Get down!” he screamed.

Directly overhead, the night sky lit up, and the desert glowed for a few seconds.

We were there on a very specific mission, to rescue a group of doctors who’d been kidnapped in Morocco while vaccinating children. The children had been saved, but the three doctors were being held in an underground cell.

After blasting the doors off with C-4, we had to crawl through a dank, concrete tunnel. Ahead, shots rang out --

I woke up panting, gasping for air.

I was lying on the floor of my grandparents house, right next to the fireplace. The pillow and blanket were underneath me, rolled into a tight ball.

I’d thought the blanket and pillow were my hostage. I’d been reliving the night we rescued the doctors. The dream was accurate -- I’d had to grab one of them and throw myself on top of her when their captors started firing. But that mission had a happy ending. All three of them lived.

I pushed myself up on my knees and gripped the edge of the fireplace.

Fuck.

This is why I couldn't live with anyone. Not even my mother or my sister needed to see me like this. I sure as hell couldn’t date anyone as long as I was like this.

There was only one therapist in Pine Hills. She was a great person, and probably a great therapist, but she was my little sister’s best friend. Even if she was professional, and never breathed a word to anyone, I couldn’t stomach the idea of telling her anything.

I could drive to the next town over. Or I could arrange a session at the closest Veteran’s Hospital. But none of that appealed to me.

Maybe if it got bad enough, I’d cave in and try going in for counseling again. But for now, I was going to focus on the house. I got up and went outside. The nights were still warm enough to chop wood, thank God.

Chapter Three

Ava

Pretending to be a drug addict was scary. Really scary. I’d focused on the superficial parts first, so that I didn’t look out of place. To get the right look, I didn’t wash my hair. I didn’t brush it either. I slept in my clothes. I did brush my teeth though.

I took the L, which was our version of the subway. I’d never set foot on it before. I tried not to wince at the grime.

Part of me felt bad. The people out here on the streets were struggling. They needed help, and I didn’t want to make a mockery of their pain. But there was no other way for me to get information. No one on the street was ever going to trust an Ackland.

The only consolation was that maybe if I exposed the criminals that were running our city, then I might be able to help some of the addicts get