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  Wounded Warriors 3

  Their Troubled Heroine

  Ellie is trying to survive day to day after a traumatic event that left her afraid to leave her house. Mayberry and Dobbs are still recovering from injuries overseas. Can they help each other adjust to the world around them or will they let their past interfere with their happiness?

  Ellie survived the Boston Marathon bombing with little damage but now she’s scared to venture outside her home for more than a few minutes. As she pushes herself, she meets Dobbs, who’s trying to learn to walk on a prosthesis. When they meet up again at a mutual friend’s home, he introduces her to Mayberry, who lost his sight in the same blast that took Dobbs’s leg.

  Will they take a chance with each other and find a way around their pasts, or will they shy away and miss out on what could be the best thing that ever happened to them? Maybe a troubled heroine can bridge the gap in their souls.

  Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

  Length: 26,926 words

  THEIR TROUBLED HEROINE

  Wounded Warriors 3

  Marla Monroe

  

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  THEIR TROUBLED HEROINE

  Copyright © 2017 by Marla Monroe

  ISBN: 978-1-64010-505-8

  First Publication: August 2017

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2017 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

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  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Marla Monroe has been writing professionally for over thirteen years. Her first book with Siren was published in January of 2011, and she now has over 75 books available with them. She loves to write and spends every spare minute either at the keyboard or reading. She writes everything from sizzling-hot cowboys, emotionally charged BDSM, and dangerously addictive shifters, to science fiction ménages with the occasional badass biker thrown in for good measure.

  Marla lives in the southern US and works full-time at a busy hospital. When not writing, she loves to travel, spend time with her feline muses, and read. Although she misses her cross-stitch and putting together puzzles, she is much happier writing fantasy worlds where she can make everyone’s dreams come true. She’s always eager to try something new and thoroughly enjoys the research she does for her books. She loves to hear from readers about what they are looking for in their reading adventures.

  You can reach Marla at [email protected], or

  Visit her website at www.marlamonroe.com

  Her blog: www.themarlamonroe.blogspot.com

  Twitter: @MarlaMonroe1

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  For all titles by Marla Monroe, please visit

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Landmarks

  Cover

  THEIR TROUBLED HEROINE

  Wounded Warriors 3

  MARLA MONROE

  Copyright © 2017

  Chapter One

  “Stop your bitching, Mayberry. You’ve got all your limbs. You can get around without falling on your ass. I’m still learning how to walk on this fucking stump,” Dobbs Rhinehart said.

  “Without this damn stick, I walk into walls. Don’t try and pull the pity card on me, asshole,” Roger Mayberry yelled back.

  “Pity card? What the fuck? I don’t want anyone’s pity.”

  “Stop shouting at me. I’m blind, not deaf.”

  It was their usual routine every morning since they’d moved in together after being discharged from inpatient rehab at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in Bethesda, Maryland. Now they attended the outpatient department daily. Or at least Dobbs did. Mayberry went along to egg him on while he worked with the therapist on using his prosthesis.

  Both men had been injured in Afghanistan when a suicide bomber targeted their unit there. The part that they still had nightmares about was that it had been a pretty young woman who’d blown herself up. It made Dobbs second-guess every woman he came into contact with. Mayberry couldn’t see, so it didn’t bother him nearly as much.

  I should have died out there. I’ll never be comfortable with this stick leg or be able to be around women without that memory of looking into her eyes before she just exploded around me.

  “Hurry up. The transport will be here in a minute, and they won’t wait on us if we aren’t out front waiting on them.” Dobbs struggled to stand still with the prosthesis in place. He always felt off balance standing on it.

  “I’m ready. Lead me to it, asshole.”

  Dobbs chuckled. Mayberry had a better attitude than he did most days, but sometimes his friend went so down in the dumps he nearly made it to China.

  Dobbs led Mayberry out of the apartment and down three steps to the curb where their transport to the rehab department waited for them. He let Mayberry negotiate the steps up into the van then struggled to get up them himself. He hated the way he was. Having lost most of his leg, he had to learn to use a fucking walking stick that defied him at every turn.

  “Fucking metal can opener,” he muttered under his breath when he finally got up the steps.

  “What did you say?” Mayberry asked.

  “Nothing.” Dobbs settled down in the seat next to his friend.

  “You going to work harder than you did yesterday?” Mayberry asked.

  “Fuck you. I did work hard. I can’t help it that this metal leg doesn’t do what I tell it to.”

  “It would if you’d listen to the therapist and not argue all the time.”

  “Who is it that bitches about needing a cane to get around?”

  Mayberry didn’t say anything more the entire trip. Dobbs knew he was just as depressed and angry about being blind and scarred up as he was. Still, Mayberry could learn to live normally while Dobbs didn’t know if he’d ever be able to get used to the leg so he could get around without crutches or a wheelchair.

  “Next stop Walter Reed Amputee Care.” The driver always made sure to tell them which stop to get off on. Dobbs figured he aspired to be a tour bus guide in California one day.

  He sucke
d. He shouldn’t have uncharitable thoughts like that. It only pulled him deeper into the pit to belittle others. Lord knows there were some guys at the center who had it much worse. He’d only lost one leg. Some had lost both and some a good bit of their body, as well. Hell, he couldn’t figure out how they could even bare to live when he’d only lost one leg and was wallowing in self-pity.

  When they finally managed to make it inside, he was glad to see Rex there. Rex was kind of their local hero who’d lost his lower leg but still managed to have a beautiful wife, Ellie. He and Clark shared her, but hell, they had her. She doted on them, and they spoiled her rotten. She worked as a social worker in the center.

  “Hey, man. How’s it hanging?” Rex asked him as he and Mayberry wobbled in.

  “Long and hard, man. Long and hard. Great to see you here.”

  “Yeah, great to hear you,” Mayberry drawled with enough snarl to make a tiger proud.

  “Listen, guys. We’re having a get-together at our place Saturday night. We’d love it if you’d come. A lot of the guys from here will be there. We wanted something away from here, you know?” Rex said.

  “I don’t know. Maybe,” Dobbs hedged.

  “Yeah. I’ll have to check my calendar.” Mayberry made a motion of licking one thumb and flipping a page.

  “Funny, Mayberry. Very funny,” Dobbs told him.

  “Think about it. We’d love to have you. Got to run. See you there.” Rex ambled off toward the back office where he knew that Ellie would be.

  The man managed to walk almost normally. It made Dobbs jealous. He wanted to learn to walk that well but seemed forever clumsy with his prosthesis. Of course, his was above the knee, where Rex’s was below the knee. It sucked either way.

  “Steer me over to the bleachers so I can cheer you on, Dobbs. Sick of standing here like I can see or something.”

  “Come on. I don’t know how you’re going to cheer me on when you can’t see me.”

  “All I need is to hear your curses when you screw up or feel the building shake when you fall to know when to cheer.”

  “You’re a ball sac. You know that, right?”

  “You keep telling me. Let’s go, crip.”

  * * * *

  Libby Parks parked at the local grocery store and sighed. She could go inside. Really, she could. She sat there for fifteen minutes and almost started the car and drove away—again. She steadied her nerves and opened the door. Then closed it again. She couldn’t do it. She’d have to order her groceries again.

  No. I’m going inside. Even if I turn around and walk back out. I’m at least going to go inside.

  With that, she shut off the engine and opened the door, pouring out of the car before she could turn belly up and slam it again. Now that she was out, it didn’t feel so bad. There were only a couple of people in the parking lot loading their groceries into their cars.

  Libby took one step after the other toward the little store and made it to the sliding glass doors. Whish. They opened as she approached. She could see inside, and there were three people checking out. Maybe there wouldn’t be many left inside shopping. She walked through the doors and nearly jumped a foot when they closed behind her. She swirled around then laughed nervously. No one seemed to have noticed her nervous jump, so Libby grabbed a cart and wheeled toward the produce section.

  After finding the vegetables and fruit she wanted, she navigated the rows to pick up the canned goods. She’d grab meat last. So far she was doing pretty damn good. Of course she hadn’t really run into anyone yet. The store was half empty. Thursday morning was a good day to shop.

  When she made it to the meat section, a moment of panic froze her feet to the floor. There were about five people perusing the meat and deli area. She swallowed hard enough it hurt her throat. She could do this.

  No I can’t. There’re too many of them.

  Then she noticed that one of the men struggled with his leg as if he had trouble moving it. He held on to the cart as if his life depended on it as he reached for some meat down in the cooler. It looked like the harder he tried to get it, the more unbalanced he got. Just when he reached the meat, the cart started rolling in the opposite direction, throwing him more off balance.

  Without thinking, Libby shoved her buggy in front of his so it wouldn’t move out from under him. His hit her cart, and he righted himself, the package of meat in his hand.

  “Oh God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bump your cart. I wasn’t paying attention.” Libby immediately knew he was a soldier. He’d probably lost his leg and was still learning to walk using a prosthesis. She knew all about that. She had a close friend who’d lost both of her legs and was struggling to re-learn to walk again.

  The man blushed and drew in a deep breath. “No problem. I think I was a moving target so you pretty much hit the bull’s-eye.”

  Libby’s nervous laugh reminded her that she so rarely laughed at all these days. She gave him an embarrassed smile and backed her cart out of his way, farther than she had to. He was a handsome man despite his obvious disability. There were lines on his face that were a testament to what he’d endured and seen while overseas. She was sure he’d served at one of the many hot spots or he wouldn’t be limping and keeping one tight grip on the cart and another equally tight grip on the ledge of the cooler.

  “I—I’ll just get out of your way.” She pushed her cart as fast as she dared to the opposite end of the cooler section where there wasn’t anyone close by. There she pretended to examine hog jowls.

  Ugg, really? Why would anyone want to eat that or pig tongue? I don’t even want to be looking at it.

  She moved a few feet forward and landed on the pork section minus the nasty stuff. There she chose a pork roast, and once the crowd had moved along, she dug through the chicken breasts to find the smallest package she could locate since it was just for her.

  “Uh, ma’am?” The soldier cleared his throat and looked apologetic with frown lines between his eyebrows. “I hate to bother you, but I’m useless at picking out anything other than T-bone steaks. Could you show me a good roast for cooking in the crockpot?”

  “Um, sure.” She walked over a little closer to him and studied the selection. “How many do you need to feed?”

  “There’s just two of us, but we both eat a lot.”

  “Are you going to put vegetables in with it like potatoes and carrots?” she asked.

  “Potatoes, no carrots. We hate carrots.” His smile appeared a little more natural. It lit up his face and sparkled in his eyes.

  For a moment, Libby could only stare up into his handsome face, and then she got back down to ground level and sighed. She’d never be able to deal with a man again. It was just too hard.

  “This one will probably do for you. If you truly eat a lot, you may have a little left over for a sandwich later. Have you made this before?”

  “Um, no. Thought it would be easy just to dump it into the crock pot with water and cook it on low for four or five hours.” He winced. “If it’s harder than that, maybe I should just skip it.”

  “It’s not hard. Just grab a can of cream of mushroom soup and pour it in with a can or two of water, the cut-up potatoes, and let it cook. The meat will fall off the bone, and you’ll have gravy if you want to make it.”

  “Thanks. That sounds easy enough. Is it okay if I get canned potatoes? Don’t much want to peel any.”

  “As long as you get whole baby potatoes and not slices. The slices will cook too much and be mush.”

  “Hey, I really appreciate it. I’m Dobbs Rhinehart. Everyone calls me Dobbs.” He held out his hand.

  Libby jerked back before she could help it. He only wanted to shake her hand, but his sudden movement caught her off guard. Black spots appeared before her eyes even as her chest grew too tight to draw in a deep breath. She stepped back again and nearly bumped into someone’s cart. After a couple of seconds she’d regained control and put both hands on the handle of her cart.

  “Hey,
are you okay?” Dobbs asked. He didn’t move toward her.

  “Yes, I think I’ve gotten too hot. Glad I could help. I need to go.” She left the meat section without her chicken and hurried to the front of the store.

  I can’t believe I nearly had an attack right in the store. He wasn’t going to hurt me. He just wanted to thank me. I’m never going to be normal again.

  She got into the fastest line she could find and counted her breaths until she had her breathing back under control and didn’t feel as if she were about to fall into a deep black hole. By the time it was her turn, she was able to plaster a smile on her face and nod as the cashier made small talk.

  She’d just finished checking out when Dobbs wheeled his cart in behind her. She gave him a nervous smile and did a marathon race out of the store to her car. She was ashamed of herself for how rude that looked, but Libby was at her limit for small talk and communicating with other human beings. She needed the safety of her little house as soon as possible. If she hadn’t needed the food, she might have abandoned the cart and made a run for it to her car instead of checking out.

  As soon as she had all the groceries loaded up, Libby got behind the wheel and leaned her head against it to still her racing heart. She’d done it, but it had cost her. Still, it was progress.

  I can’t believe I actually made it all the way through buying groceries.

  Yeah, she’d missed a few things she’d had on her list, but next time, she’d do better. Now that she knew the right time of day, maybe she would slowly be able to tolerate more interactions. She’d come a long way from the psych ward she’d ended up in after being discharged from being an inpatient in the hospital for over a month.