Abby's Two Warriors [Wounded Warriors 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  He didn’t say anything for a long time. Abby waited him out. She wasn’t giving up or walking out just because he was ignoring her. Eventually he’d realize she was serious and loved him no matter what. Soon he’d accept that he wasn’t alone with this. He had Abby and his family and a host of friends who wanted to be there for him. So she waited.

  Despite his injuries, he still had a massive chest beneath broad shoulders that had always sheltered her when things had been rough for her. Being the only female in an all male family had been tough. Her brothers bounced back and forth between teasing and tormenting her and protecting her even when she didn’t need it. Because of that, she’d had to sneak around to do anything as a teenager.

  That was how she and Kermit had become such good friends to begin with. He’d helped her sneak away from her brothers and felt superior to them despite their being two, three, and four years older than he was. Abby had been the baby in the family, an accident that had ultimately led to her mom’s death six months after her birth.

  Over the years it had developed into a full-fledged case of young love then matured into true love and a friendship so strong, no one had ever been able to come between them, and many had tried. Despite it all, they’d remained together, and he’d proposed, asking her to marry him but to wait until he’d finished his first tour. Three weeks before that tour was to be over, he’d almost come home in a body bag. Abby wasn’t letting go, no matter what.

  Kermit cleared his throat, coughed, then cleared it again and slowly turned his head to look at her. Even before the words came out of his mouth, she knew it would be bad. She could read the pain and regret in his expression before it disappeared and he hardened his eyes. No amount of bracing could prepare her for what came out of his mouth next.

  “I know that you cheated on me, Abby. I suspected it for a long time, but I was waiting until I was going to be home for good before I confronted you with it. I had this stupid idea that you were just lonely and he was kind of a part of me, so you screwed up, wish it were me. I should have known better.”

  Abby felt as if she’d been the one to take the brunt of the explosion. Her body felt numb then pain exploded through her chest, causing her to take a step back then another. No. She hadn’t cheated on him. She’d gotten drunk when he’d gone missing months before the accident, but she hadn’t cheated on him. Who would have told him that?

  “I—I never…” she began before he cut her off.

  “Shut up! I don’t want to hear lies from you. When I saw you the last two times I was on leave, I expected you to tell me. If you’d just admitted it maybe I could have understood, forgiven you, but you acted like nothing had happened.” He pointed a shaking finger at her. “I don’t want to ever see your lying eyes again,” he snarled.

  “Who told you that? I didn’t cheat on you, Kermit! I could never cheat on you!” she cried out.

  “My best fucking friend! Did it have to be with Heath? I couldn’t trust either of you, but at least he admitted it. He tried to claim it wasn’t your fault, it was all his. You’d been helping him recover because we were best friends and you owed it to me to make sure he was okay. I knew it. I knew you sounded different every time we talked, and a couple of times you wouldn’t turn on the webcam when we Skyped. You said you looked a mess. Was he with you then? Where you in bed with him when I called you then?” he snarled, his face growing red with rage.

  “Then I went missing and you’d been drinking too much and he’d taken advantage of you. But I know better. You’d been flirting with him for years.” Kermit’s face screwed up into something that didn’t even resemble her fiancé anymore. Rage seemed to leak from his eyes as he sat up higher in the bed and glared at her. “Get out of my sight. I never want to see you again.”

  “I didn’t cheat on you, Kermit. I didn’t. I don’t know what he might have told you, but we didn’t do anything. Yes. I was drunk, and so was he, we thought you were gone, but I swear on my mom’s grave that nothing happened!” She was nearly yelling now.

  The door opened behind her and an orderly stepped in. “Is everything okay? Do you need anything?”

  “Yeah, get her out of here. She was just leaving,” Kermit said before turning over. “And shut off the light, will you? I’m tired.”

  Chapter Two

  Pain lanced through Heath’s head as someone pounded on the door to his apartment.

  Who the fuck is banging on my door? What time is it?

  He rolled over and squinted at the clock, groaning to see that it was nearly eleven in the morning. What the fuck? How much whiskey had he managed to put away last night, anyway?

  Whoever was at the door wasn’t going away. Heath slowly slid his legs out from under the covers and planted his feet on the ground, wishing they could answer the damn door without the rest of him. Finally he managed to sit up then stand up, holding his head with one hand and the wall with the other as he shuffled to the front of the apartment to stop the damn pounding.

  The damn door wasn’t even locked. Hell, he was a mess. Heath jerked open the door then tried to slam it shut again when the bright sunshine blinded him, ramping up the pain in his head behind what used to be his eyes before they’d been scorched by the fucking sun.

  “Don’t you dare slam the door in my face, Heath Collins,” Abby yelled, adding even more pain if that was possible to his already deadly headache.

  “Shhh, Abby. My head,” he whispered with one finger in front of his mouth. At least he thought it was his mouth.

  “I don’t give a flying fuck about your head. You chose to drink. I didn’t siphon it down your throat. Give me a few minutes to scream at you and I’ll finish the job though.” He winced as she stomped across the room and pulled open the drapes, searing his eyes once more.

  “What the fuck? Abby. Close the damn drapes. What is wrong with you?” he hissed out from between clenched teeth. “Why are you torturing me?”

  “Because you lied to Kermit and told him we slept together. Why would you tell him that? We didn’t sleep together! We didn’t have sex, but he believes you and not me,” she screamed right in front of his face.

  Heath jerked back and hit his head on the wall behind him. He hadn’t even realized she’d been backing him up while she’d been yelling at him. Though it hurt like a mother, it did help to sober him up enough that he finally understood what she was yelling at him.

  “Wait,” he said in a hoarse voice. Then louder. “Wait a damn minute! I didn’t tell him we slept together. I wouldn’t lay that on him now of all times, even if it had been true.”

  She took a step back and stared up at him with so much pain that Heath didn’t know what to do. Why would she think he’d tell his best friend a lie that would hurt him even more than he already was? It didn’t matter that he loved Kermit’s woman. He’d never betray his best friend like that. Nor would he come between Abby and Kermit even if his life depended on it. They were meant to be together.

  “He said you told him. He accused me of fucking you and told me to get out and never come back. We didn’t have sex,” she said with a hiccup. Then she was sobbing as if her heart was broken. Maybe it was.

  “Hell, Abigail. Please don’t cry. We’ll fix it, but I promise I didn’t tell him that we slept together.” He struggled to think what he had said when he’d visited with him the day before.

  It was nearly impossible to think back with the mother of all hangovers redesigning the inside of his head at the moment. It was the reason he’d come home and gotten drunk. Seeing Frog lying there with part of his legs missing and all the cuts covering his body had torn him up inside. Not only because the man was his best fucking friend, but because he’d been thankful it hadn’t been him, and that made him feel even worse.

  What kind of friend felt relief that they weren’t the one lying in the damn bed missing parts of their body? Not a good friend that was for sure. He should be wishing he could trade places with him instead. The guy deserved a chance to enjoy life with
his fiancée without having to learn to walk on pretend legs.

  “You had to have said something, or he wouldn’t have known about any of it in the first place, Heath. What did you tell him?” She was still sobbing, so he held her in his arms as he leaned against the hard wall.

  “I’m not sure, but I know I didn’t tell him we had sex. We talked for a long time, but I can’t really remember what all we talked about. I just remember how sick I felt when I got home and I started drinking. Fuck!” Heath rubbed his eyes with one hand, keeping the other one on Abby’s back.

  She jerked back from him and turned to stomp over to the small bar that separated the kitchenette from the living area. When she turned around, her reddened eyes still held tears, but they also held something else just as heart wrenching to Heath—hopelessness. Abby, who’d never appeared helpless or looked beaten in her entire life, looked that way now. He could see it in the droop of her shoulders and the trembling of her lower lip.

  “Honey. You and I both know that nothing happened. He’ll believe it once he’s had time to think about it. He knows I’d never mess with you. I love you both like my own family. He’s already hurting and angry about this kick in the balls, so taking it out on us is the easiest thing for him right now. He’ll come around. You’ll see.” Heath just wished he believed it as well. Right now the only thing he knew for certain was that he had the worst hangover ever and the woman he loved was crying her eyes out over his best friend about something he hadn’t even done.

  * * * *

  “Are you sober yet?” Abby asked the second he walked out of his bedroom after having showered and dressed. She held out a cup of coffee that smelled strong enough to strip industrial paint off a submarine.

  “Close enough,” he mumbled as he sipped the delicious toxic brew. “Give me till I finish the first cup then I should be good to go.”

  He heard Abby’s soft sigh though she tried to hide it. She’d never been patient, though when necessary, she could outwait the stubbornnest man alive. There was just something about the woman that had gone to his head almost from the moment he’d first met her. She’d been messing with his mind and his heart ever since.

  “Tell me what happened,” he said, sipping the hot liquid.

  She leaned against the bar and filled him in on her visit with Kirby. He could hear the heartbreak in her voice and almost feel the steely determination to make him see her. He had to give it to her. She hadn’t backed down despite all the roadblocks his friend had thrown in her way. Most women, in love or not, would have given up by now. Not his Abby.

  He cursed under his breath.

  Not my Abby, Kermit’s.

  If the idiot would get his head out of his ass, he’d have the most devoted and loving wife in the world. Abby loved him with all of her heart and then some. The only problem with his injury as far as she was concerned was how it affected him. She just wanted him, and the loss of his lower legs meant nothing more than a few more challenges to her.

  “I didn’t tell him we slept together, Abby. I know I didn’t. I’m not real clear on what I did say, but I wouldn’t have lied. I know that much.” He stared into her reddened eyes and knew his didn’t look nearly as good as hers did.

  “Whatever you said, he took it to mean that we did. You’ve got to convince him it didn’t happen, Heath. He’s my life. I can’t lose him over some misunderstanding. He needs me, and I need him just as much,” she said, pushing away from the bar to pace the short expanse of the room.

  “I’ll go talk to him as soon as I can think straight. I don’t want to risk saying something with my mind all muddled like it is.” He rubbed his eyes. “Fuck, my head hurts.”

  “Did you take the aspirin I gave you? I bet you left it in the bathroom when you went to take your shower.” She sighed and stomped toward his bathroom.

  “Yuck! When’s the last time you cleaned this place?” she yelled from the back of the apartment.

  Heath didn’t bother answering. He’d pretty much quit caring when he got home from spending three weeks in Germany undergoing two surgeries. Then once he’d gotten home, Abby had bitched him into doing his physical therapy and figuring out what to do with his life. He’d almost come around to her way of thinking when they’d heard that Kermit was missing. That had been one hell of a weekend. One it looked as if he would be paying for, for the rest of his life.

  Abby returned with his glass of water and the two aspirin he’d forgotten about earlier. He downed them, grimacing at the bitter aftertaste that clung to the roof of his mouth.

  “You weren’t this bad when you were a teenager, Heath. Are you trying to start some form of germ warfare or something?” she asked, a frown line appearing between her brows.

  “Just haven’t felt much like doing anything. My fucking shoulder hurts when I do the exercises, so I don’t much feel like torturing myself some more to clean the place. At least my damn clothes are clean,” he grumbled.

  “Well that’s about all that is.” She sighed and propped her chin on her hands and her elbows on the bar top. “Why didn’t you ask me to help? You know I’d be happy to do some cleaning once a week.”

  “You’ve already done more than enough for me, sweet thing. I can manage on my own.” Heath drained the last of the coffee from his cup and refilled it before walking over to his recliner and flopping down in it.

  “Don’t worry about Frog, Abby. I’ll go have a talk with him. I’m sure he just heard me wrong and took off with it. You and I both know he’s trying to push you away so you won’t be stuck with a cripple,” he said.

  “He’s not a cripple!”

  He covered his injured shoulder with one hand when she reached out and punched him in the arm.

  “I know that. I’m just saying that’s what he’s thinking. He doesn’t feel like he’s good enough for you anymore and thinks he’s doing you a favor.”

  Abby kicked his chair. “That’s stupid. I’d never walk away from him no matter what was wrong. I love him, Heath.”

  “I know, hon. Don’t give up. I’ll go talk to him this afternoon, and you can try again tomorrow,” he said with a sigh.

  “Okay. Thanks, Heath. I’m sorry I was so mean to you. I knew you wouldn’t have lied to him like that, but I was so upset, and to hear him say those things to me broke my heart. I took it out on you, and that wasn’t fair,” she told him.

  “No worries, Abby. Go home and get some rest. I’ll see him this afternoon and call you later to let you know how it went,” he told her.

  She nodded before stepping over to the chair and leaning in to give him a big hug and kiss him on the cheek.

  Once she’d left, closing the door behind her, Heath breathed a sigh of relief. Being that close to her was like walking a razor’s edge with bare feet. No matter what he did, he got hurt. He loved her with all of his heart, but could never do anything about it. She belonged to his best friend. The weekend that they’d thought he’d been killed or captured they’d both gotten drunk and talked about him and how much they loved him. She’d cried and Heath had held her, rocking her in his arms in an effort to soothe her and himself.

  Unfortunately, it had turned into more than just his supporting her while she cried. He’d kissed her and when she’d resisted at first, he hadn’t backed away, couldn’t. She was like terribly sweet ambrosia that went down smooth but threatened to choke you once you’d swallowed all of it. Once he’d deepened the kiss, she’d responded and he’d all but stripped her right then and there.

  Thank God she’d come to her senses and pulled away from him. He’d almost refused to let her go, but gave in and let her draw back. She’d looked so damn sexy with her hair messy and her lips a dark, swollen red. Her eyes had been heavy with lust, but quickly turned bright with guilty tears. Tears he’d put there.

  Heath had brushed it all off as a drunken sob-fest over someone they both cared for and talked through the entire thing until they were both back in control again. They’d pretended it hadn’t happ
ened and never brought it up again. What would have made him bring it up to Kermit yesterday? They hadn’t been drinking, and he couldn’t imagine saying anything that might have compromised his and Abby’s relationship. He shook his head. Obviously he’d said something though.

  “Fuck! I’m such a screw-up.” He stumbled to his feet and went in search of socks so he could pull on his boots. He needed to set things straight with his friend. If he’d somehow let something slip, it was his job to fix it.

  He spent the next thirty minutes pacing the apartment trying to remember exactly what he’d said to start the mess in the first place but nothing came to mind. Then he began to wonder if someone else had said something to Kirby, but no one had known what had happened, or in their case, hadn’t happened.

  This shit was as bad as the damn PTSD he’d been labeled with only three months back. It hadn’t occurred to him that the anxiety attacks he’d been having for seemingly no reason were the same thing as some of the guys at the clinics complained about. All he knew was that he’d totally black out and find himself under his fucking bed or in the closet. He rarely slept unless he was drunk and passed out. They’d told him drinking wasn’t the cure and only made things worse, but what would help?

  Not a damn thing. I’m screwed in so many ways and it still isn’t nearly as bad as Kermit’s troubles. Now I’ve made it worse for Kermit and I don’t even know how.

  “Fuck!”

  Heath grabbed a pillow off the couch and threw it across the room in disgust. Maybe he didn’t need to go see his friend after all. He couldn’t remember a damn thing about what they’d said. He only got that way when he had an episode.

  There’s no telling what I told him. What the hell triggered it in the first place? Why would I have talked about that instead of something related to our missions?