The Soldier Next Door Page 2

  She couldn’t hide her shock. “You do?”

  “It’s my backup. I’m going to decide when it’s time to end this. I’m not going to let this disease take me out.”

  “What about your family? Surely you wouldn’t want them to find you that way.” She kept her voice very calm.

  “They don’t care…well, maybe my mom. I try to talk to her, but she gets scared, starts to cry, and asks me if she should call someone. I didn’t even tell Nicole the hard stuff and she still cried. I sleep with the light and TV on ‘cause I get these night terrors. One night she turned the lights off and I woke up swinging, ready to fight. I get disoriented in the dark…” His voice trailed off, then he added, “Black shadows come at me, grabbing me, trying to pull me down.”

  He became silent again—just staring with that blank look on his face.

  She needed a breather. “I’m going to use the bathroom real quick. I’ll be right back.” She heard him open another bottle while she was in the bathroom. In all reality, she did want to call someone yet the way he looked at her drew her into his world. As frightening as this night had become, she felt compelled to see him through it. She splashed cool water on her face, then returned to the kitchen.

  “Hey, baby,” he purred with a smile. “You’re a pretty little thing.” His mood had swung around again.

  She slid onto the chair. “Um…thank you.”

  “How about you and me go over to my place. I’ll just lie on the bed and you can rub yourself all over me.” He gave her a spirited wink.

  In an attempt to divert his attention, she commented on his tattoo. “What is your tattoo of?”

  “My alter self.” He stood up and turned around. “I have tattoos on my ass, too.” He whipped his jeans down far enough to show her his butt. “I got these so that if I ever got blown up everyone would know it was me.”

  Sure enough two images—an eagle and an eagle’s talon had been tattooed onto his nice little behind.

  Her cheeks flushed with heat. “Um…maybe we should stay here. I’m not into one night stands.”

  Suddenly his eyes widened, brimming with sincerity. “Oh no, neither am I. Just sitting here staring into your big blue eyes…” He drifted again, clearly intoxicated. “You said that you have kids?”

  “Two daughters, yes.”

  “They don’t live with you?”

  “No. They have kids of their own. One just came out of an abusive relationship.”

  As if another wind of change had blown into the room, Mason’s personality dipped again. “Tell me where the little cocksucker lives. I’ll take care of him. I hate fucking pricks like him.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary. We have a PFA against him.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Mick, but don’t worry, my daughter is doing great now.”

  Mason didn’t back down. “Come on, we’ll drive to his place right now.”

  “You shouldn’t drive when you’re drinking,” she said as gently as possible.

  “You drive then. You can drive my truck. Can you drive a truck?”

  “Yes but—”

  “I love women who drive badass trucks. Bet you’d look really cute in there.”

  “Maybe we better stay in tonight.”

  He didn’t acknowledge her comment, but went off on an extremely dramatic tirade, using his hands as part of the talking. “Here’s what I’ll do to Mick,” he growled, then set his bottle down. “I’ll knock on his door. Hey, are you Mick? I’ll drag him outside and kick the shit out of him.” Mason went through the motions of pinning an invisible man to the ground, using her table as the prop, then proceeded to smack Mick around. He belted out a host of profanities unlike she’d ever heard toward an invisible man while he went on to choke someone who was not there.

  Yet she could tell that in his mind, the situation was very real. Nobody could more convincingly describe and act out in detail what this man did. She watched, in stunned horror as Mason smacked Mick around and choked the life from him while spewing obscene language drenched in rage. Suddenly he calmed, seemingly confident his enemy was dead, and he glanced at her in regret. The look on his face was clear—he had taken his rage too far and Mick was dead.

  Silence filled the room. Sydnie thought fast. “Oops,” she said in a quiet voice.

  He shot her a panicked look. “We better get out of here.”

  “Yeah, let’s go.”

  And with that, he released the demon in his head and grew calm. In her next breath, he startled her by shouting at a plastic bag in the adjacent chair.

  “Who is that? I’ll kill the motherfucker!”

  She squashed the bag out of sight. “He’s gone.”

  Mason glared at the chair for several minutes, then relaxed again. She realized that this would be a very long night.

  Chapter Two

  Sydnie rolled over and clutched her pillow to block out the light. She was off for the holiday weekend and looked forward to staying in and catching up on her freelance work. Mason had stayed until seven in the morning. He polished off both six packs, retched over the side of her deck, and took her on a virtual journey she’d never forget.

  After mentally killing Mick and threatening the plastic bag, he didn’t seem to have more hallucinations, for which she was relieved. He did, however, tell her stories and show her videos from his cell phone that brought tears to her eyes more than once. At times, he broke down and cried while staring into her with those puppy-dog eyes. She could not bring herself to make him go home though he’d scared her more than once.

  She thought about the gruesome details of war, recalled the intense sorrow in Mason’s voice when he told her about his sergeant and how his unit found him.

  We were walking down a dirt road after a bomb went off. I felt something under my feet, something mushy. I looked at my buddy and said, what the fuck is this? We kept walking, wondering what the hell we were walking through. Then we saw body parts and realized we were walking on pieces of flesh. It felt like stepping on fat. Tears had filled his eyes as he’d opened up about the hell he’d endured. We were walking on parts of his body!

  He emulated the sounds of war, which only men seemed able to do. She had yet to meet a man who couldn’t imitate the sound of machinery. Mason told her how it sounded at night, that it was never quiet because of the drones flying overhead and distant explosions. He talked about the constant gunfire, described the weapons used, and essentially took her on a verbal tour of war-torn Iraq.

  She saw the pictures of his Humvee, shredded by the IED bomb that left him disabled. Though he hadn’t lost any limbs in the explosion, the radiation from the blast caused severe brain damage and nearly crippled his central nervous system. He couldn’t recall the actual moment when his unit hit the bomb, but he remembered the hospital. She had to fight back the tears when he’d told her about his journey from hell to home and back to hell again.

  At times, she’d wanted to reach out and just hug the stuffing out of him, comfort him and make him feel loved. But they were strangers.

  She understood how it might be difficult for a woman to live with that level of insanity. The trauma that haunted this man’s mind was staggering. Even so, her night with the soldier next door strangely enough, left her wanting more.

  I must be crazy. She rolled over and stared at the ceiling. I wonder if he’s any better today. She decided she’d walk over later to check on him. Knowing the extent of his disability and that he now lived alone, the least she could do was be a good neighbor even if she refused to admit her attraction to him. There is no way I can feel more than compassion for a man with so much baggage. Can I?

  Yet something about the way he’d stared right into her refused to let her go—as if he was looking for a connection to humanity and found it in her eyes last night.

  Sydnie rapped lightly on the front door, feeling somewhat nervous about taking initiative. What if he doesn’t remember anything? I’ll feel like an idiot. She shi
fted her weight anxiously on the porch.

  Mason appeared at the door. A curious expression swept his face. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “I just wanted to see how you are doing today. Are you feeling better?” She held out a stack of envelopes. “And you forgot your mail.”

  He shrugged and laughed. “My head’s killing me and my back hurts like hell. I’m just chillin’ on the heating pad. You wanna come in?”

  “Maybe for just a little while. I really should be working.”

  He closed the door behind her, then went to the corner on his couch where a heating pad was stretched out. “The disks in my back were fused together from the explosion. I won’t take painkillers, don’t want to be addicted to them.” He seemed like an entirely different person today. His voice was soft and calm.

  She took a discreet look around. “Wow, your home is immaculate.”

  “I like things clean, something I learned in the service.”

  “It smells good, too.”

  “I have a thing for air fresheners.” He grinned. “In Iraq we’d go weeks without a shower, eat rotten food, lived with dysentery…some days I’d lay out in the sun naked just to get the stink off.”

  “That sounds awful.” Inwardly she shuddered, unable to imagine such harsh conditions. “Do you remember much of last night?”

  A sheepish grin tugged at his lips. “I don’t know…maybe.”

  “Your tattoos?”

  He studied her face briefly, then it dawned on him. “Oh shit. I was pretty fucked up.” He let out a casual laugh.

  “You’re not drinking today.”

  “No, I don’t do that all the time. I get nervous around new people. The PTSD gives me panic attacks.”

  “I know what those are like. I had Agoraphobia in my early twenties. The anxiety can be hell.”

  “Yeah,” he muttered. “The VA gives me Xanax to help. Do you want some?”

  “No, no, I’m fine,” she replied with a little laugh.

  “Every time I go for my doctor appointments I change my look. I don’t want their cameras to recognize me so I’ll shave my head, or grow a beard then shave the beard and grow my hair. I don’t want them sticking me back in the hospital.”

  Sydnie thought this was a bit paranoid, but kept her thoughts to herself. “You seem more at ease today. Do you need anything?”

  “I’m okay. I have bacon in the fridge. I live on BLTs and potato salad.” He stared straight at her with those intense brown eyes. “Are you hungry?”

  “I have food at the house. I should get back to work and let you rest.” She wrote her phone number on a piece of paper. “If you ever need anything just give me a call or send a text.”

  “Do you wanna go out to dinner or something?”

  “Um…are you sure you feel up to it?” Her stomach tightened with nervous tension. She wanted to say yes, as he seemed so much sweeter today yet she worried he might start drinking toward nightfall. She wasn’t completely convinced he didn’t drink often.

  “Nobody ever comes here, except Nicole once a day to lay out my meds. I told you she’s my caregiver, didn’t I?”

  “Yes. Is that how you met?”

  “No, we were boyfriend and girlfriend before then. I bought this house for her, thought we’d be a family. She has a son, but we didn’t have kids together. I was snipped after the war because of my disability.”

  “I guess it gets lonely in this big house.”

  “Yeah. What about you? You live over there alone?”

  She nodded. “My husband left me several years ago for a younger woman. I can’t bring myself to move yet. I’ve lived there over twenty years. It still feels like home.”

  “I’m sorry about your old man. He must be crazy. You don’t look past your thirties and you’re hot.”

  “Thank you.” She looked down at her lap. It had been a long time since she heard those words from a man. “I haven’t dated since.”

  “So how about dinner? It’s the least I can to thank you for sitting with me last night. Sometimes the nights get long.”

  “I must admit, you took me to places in the human mind that terrified me. But I’m not afraid of the demons that haunt you. There’s a gentleness in your eyes behind the rage.”

  He smiled. “I feel like I can be myself with you. You didn’t try to call anyone or take me to the hospital like everyone else. I just can’t tell people that shit. It scares them. They can’t handle it.”

  “I’ve had my share of hellish ordeals. None quite like yours, but I’ve been broken inside.”

  He studied her face for several long minutes as if searching her soul. She shifted beneath his candid stare.

  “Do you like steak?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “There’s an awesome restaurant in town that cooks them just right. Wanna go?” That puppy-dog expression returned again, the adorable brown eyes with sweetly arched brows that tugged at her heart. She couldn’t say no to that look.

  “Yeah, why not.” She stood up to leave. “I’ll just run over and change.”

  “Why?” His gaze moved over her. “You look great. I love your hair. I love women with long hair.” He held out her jacket. “I promise that our second date will be better than the first.”

  “Date?” She slid her arms into the sleeves, flattered by his comments and gentlemanly gesture.

  “That is what it’s called when a man and woman have dinner together, isn’t it?”

  “I guess so.” She laughed a little. “Wouldn’t you be better off with a woman your own age?”

  “I tried that. All four of them cheated on me. Besides, you don’t look much older than me.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-six.”

  “I’m ten years older. Sure you want that date?”

  He let out an easy laugh. “Ten years, that’s nothing. Age is meaningless. I feel like I’m over fifty most of the time and according to the doctors, I don’t have many good years left.”

  “Aw, don’t believe them. I’ve read many stories of people who overcome the odds.”

  A mix of gratitude and affection shone in his eyes. He motioned for her to walk out ahead of him. After opening the passenger side door and helping her climb into his four-by-four truck, he walked around and slid behind the wheel. When he started it up, the engine growled its power. He gunned it a few times and she recognized the sound of glasspack exhaust from her classic car days. The truck rumbled out the drive nice and slow, then he tromped it down and they shot off like a rocket. Sydnie grabbed the handle mounted to the side of the door and hung on as he whipped around bends and flew down country roads as if running from the devil.

  Once they hit the highway, he pushed the truck into high gear. In less than five seconds they were doing eighty. He looked pretty happy so she kept her mouth shut and didn’t even let out a squeak. She hadn’t ridden with a wild man since her dating days. Only one man before this one had terrorized her with his aggressive driving. In a weird way, she missed those days. As they ripped up the road, she began to embrace the thrill and leave the fear behind. Mason had an uncanny way of making her forget about age.

  The restaurant was not very far from home, but they arrived in record time nonetheless. He swung into the lot and parked. Her knees felt a bit shaky when he came around to her side and opened the door.

  She hid her anxiety behind a smile. “You must be really hungry.”

  “Why?”

  “You got us here very fast.”

  “No use having power if you don’t use it,” he said with a mischievous grin.

  Inside, a hostess guided them to a table, took their drink orders, then left. Sydnie breathed a sigh of relief when Mason ordered soda and not liquor. The way he drove left no room for alcohol in the mix.

  They ate perfectly cooked steaks and chatted casually over dinner. He told her more about his family, most notably his father who he seemed to admire a great deal though they rarely saw each other. He opened up about
his relationships and she discovered he’d had a string of bad marriages, which all ended with the women cheating. And his most recent love interest, Nicole, who he thought would be the one, ended up finding another man as well.

  Sydnie couldn’t help but wonder if there was a pattern that had caused the breakups. Either that or this man simply had really bad luck.

  When he inquired about her ex, she told him in brief what happened, but omitted personal details. Talking about the man who divorced her for a woman half his age wasn’t her favorite subject. They lingered in conversation over dessert, getting to know each other.

  His sober side was extremely appealing. He told her stories of his life before the war. He truly was hell on wheels and he expressed himself in ways that made her laugh harder than she’d laughed in years. Mason seemed to live his life without fear before, during, and after the war and he was wild.

  She listened in shocked fascination as he talked about the time he’d run over a cop with his quad, by accident of course. And by a glitch in the police report, all charges were dropped. She couldn’t believe he ended up living next door to that very same cop years later and they even became friends. His bad luck with women paralleled the lucky breaks he had with the law. He’d been chased, caught, and close to landing in jail so many times, she was amazed he survived his youth long enough to even enlist in the military.

  “I was worried my felony charge would keep me out,” he confessed. “I tried getting into the Marines, but they told me to go next door. They won’t take anyone with a record. The Army made me go through a formal hearing, where I signed papers, then they cleared my record and took me in. After that I knew I couldn’t fuck up again.”

  “I’ve never met anyone quite like you.” She found herself getting lost in his shimmering eyes. Dark lashes formed a pretty rim like natural eyeliner. “You have an amazing zest for life even after everything.”

  “I’m gonna live till I die,” he said.