Shameless - Sybil Bartel Page 0,71
pussy who broke first. “I don’t have a problem.” I had a big fucking problem. Since the day I held a weapon in the name of my country, I could kill without remorse. That wasn’t a man. That was a machine. I didn’t fit in the fucking civilian world, and I sure as fuck had no business lusting after a nineteen year old with a whole goddamn future in front of her, but here I was, firmly entrenched on both fronts.
Studying me like I was on the wrong end of his scope, Harm dumped a brand of wisdom only a Marine in the exact same position would be able to do. “I couldn’t relate to anything or anyone after I got out. I thought everyone else was the problem. I came up the mountain to get away from it all before I did something stupid, to myself or someone else. Turned out, I couldn’t get away from the one person I was avoiding by coming up here.” He glanced out at the view. “This corner of the world wasn’t a bad place to be to come to terms with who I was. I hunted. I built a cabin. I practiced my long-range accuracy on deer and rabbit. I learned how to sleep through the night.” He paused. “I survived.” His gaze cut back to mine. “Not everything about who I’d become was bad. I’m not a man without honor.” His voice turning solemn, he looked back at the mountains. “Neither are you.”
I swallowed down the same regret and bitterness I did every time I’d lost a brother downrange. Then I said the first real thing since I’d told a nineteen-year-old brunette she was mine. “I’m glad you’re still standing.”
“Same.” He picked his toolbox up and put it back in the truck before opening his door.
Fuck, I was an asshole. “You want a beer?”
“I don’t drink.”
I nodded. I got it. “Coffee?”
“Maybe another time. I promised Luna I’d follow up on something.”
“The bodies?”
“Something like that.” He got behind the wheel and cranked the engine. The old truck started right up and he looked pointedly at me. “Maybe that girl is your mountain.” He shut his door and put the truck in reverse.
He’d turned the old GMC around and was halfway down my driveway before I realized what he’d done.
He’s purposely left me alone on my own goddamn mountain.
PULLING INTO THE QUEUE, TAPPING the steering wheel, I wasn’t nervous by the time the valet opened my door, I was a fucking wreck.
I used to walk into a room like I owned it. An event like this wouldn’t have made me blink twice. I’d strut in, find the bar, order a drink I was too young for, and give the proverbial middle finger to the rules.
I used to dominate parties like this… when I’d been high.
Walking in sober was a new dimension of suck and I hated it.
“Miss Amherst,” the valet greeted, smiling at me like he knew me despite my new hair color.
“Keep it close,” I ordered before adding, “Please.” Trying not to be a bitch was proving harder than quitting most everything else from the old me. “I won’t be long.”
“Of course.” He handed me a ticket.
I handed him a twenty.
“Thank you.” He smiled like he meant it, and it reminded me of those kids at the hospital last week.
It was the kick I needed.
This night wasn’t about me. It was about those kids, suffering through shit so much worse than anything I’d ever had to deal with, I had no right to bitch about a stupid case of nerves. I told myself to suck it up. If a child in the middle of chemo could smile about a visit from me and a stuffed animal, I could walk into a party and play nice with potential donors.
I told myself I could do this. But then the doorman held the brass and glass door open, and I was pretty sure I was going to hyperventilate.
One hour, Summer. Suck it up.
The pep talk not helping, my hands shaking, I was clammy everywhere. Nervous in my form-fitting gold dress that was two sizes bigger than what I used to wear, not wanting to see anyone I used to party with, I somehow managed to square my shoulders and walk into the trendy boutique hotel.
The entire place having been rented out for the evening just for this event, the two-story lobby was set up with three bars. Music played at a perfect level to mask