Once a Marine. Loree Lough
relaxed slightly. “One more promise?”
“What now?”
“Stop looking so grim. If they come back and see you looking all serious and angry, they won’t let up until I tell them, too. Or worse, walk around looking all ‘poor Libby’ for the rest of my life.” She gave his hand a weak squeeze. “Thank goodness I don’t have to worry you’ll do that.”
He feigned shock. “Hey. Just ’cause I’m a marine doesn’t mean I’m devoid of feelings.”
“It’s because you’re a big, tough marine that I can trust you to mask your feelings. You saw a lot of ugly stuff over there, but you learned how to compartmentalize it. If you feel sorry for me when I...once I’ve told you everything, well, at least you’ll know how to pretend you don’t.”
Compartmentalize. Libby had chosen the right career, all right. Too bad she couldn’t put her degree in psychology to use analyzing herself, figure out why she kept getting involved with losers, why she struggled in a one-woman practice when so many facilities wanted to hire her. Zach stifled a groan and sandwiched her hand between his. “You’ll get no pity from me.”
Libby returned his halfhearted smile and plunged into her story. Halfway through, the pace and volume of her words waned, and when she finished, Libby slipped into a fitful sleep.
Zach sat there, shaking his head and fighting tears. Part of him wished she had known the guy. At least he’d have a target for his fury. But her attacker was still out there somewhere. Was he aware that Libby couldn’t identify him? If he thought otherwise, would he try to find her and make sure she couldn’t testify against him? That possibility scared Zach almost as much as seeing the enemy churning through the Afghan dust.
His mind went into full marine mode, searching for proactive ways to help her, to make sure nothing like this ever happened to her again.
And then it hit him.
When the docs released her, he’d move into Libby’s town house and take care of her. While she recuperated, he’d start the wheels in motion to find a place of his own, preferably a shop of some kind with an upstairs apartment. He’d open a self-defense studio, right here in Vail. And when she was ready, Libby would be his first student.
“Let go of my hand, you goof. Your big meat hook is getting me all sweaty.”
Snickering, he did as she asked, just as their folks returned, each carrying a cardboard food tray.
“Oh, good,” his mom whispered, “she’s still sleeping.”
She was too busy doling out sandwiches and bags of chips to notice Libby’s mouth curl into a tiny, sly grin.
It told him she’d be all right, and he had to put his back to the family to keep them from seeing his grateful tears.
September, two years later
ALEX PUT TWO grocery bags on the kitchen table and pointed to her answering machine. “Hey, Summer. Did you know you have a message?”
She followed the teen’s gaze to the blinking red light. “Oh. That. I must have been upstairs when the phone rang, getting the guest room ready for my parents.”
“When will they be here?”
“Day after tomorrow.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember.”
Something in his voice told her Alex didn’t believe a word of her excuse.
He handed her the receipt. “Sorry, they didn’t have hot fudge sauce.”
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t be eating so many sweets, anyway.” She pressed a twenty into his hand and smiled, grateful to Alex, grateful to her investment counselor for making recommendations that had kept her financially solvent all these months, grateful that she’d had the good sense to take his advice. “I’m sure they’ll have some next time.”
When he saw the amount of his tip, Alex’s eyebrows disappeared behind dark, wavy bangs. “Whoa, this is way too much!”
“Nonsense.” She would have paid twice the price to avoid leaving the town house to shop for herself. “You’re getting your license in just a few months. I’m sure you can use a little extra cash.”
“Well, if you say so.” He tucked the bill into his back pocket. Brightening, he added, “Mom says I can drive her car if I pay my share of the insurance.”
“See? There you go!”
Alex nodded, but it seemed there was something more on his mind than groceries and tip money. “Could I... Ah... Can I... Would you get mad if I asked you something?”
He’d never been one to pry—unlike his mother, who thought nothing of asking a person’s weight, salary and far more personal information.
“I promise not to get mad,” Summer assured him.
Alex slid a four-color, glossy flyer from the front pocket of his hooded sweatshirt. “Have you ever thought about taking some classes?” he began, tapping it on his thigh. “To help you deal with, ah, you know, what happened to you?”
Of course she’d considered it. What person in her shoes wouldn’t have! If she’d heard “Stop living in the past” once, she’d heard it a hundred times, from her parents, her orthopedist, her best friend, Justin, and the therapist she’d left after only four sessions. Summer knew each of them had her best interests at heart, but that didn’t make their advice more palatable.
“Maybe you could just talk to Zach,” Alex continued, handing her the pamphlet. “I bet he could help you.”
Help me what? she wondered, pretending to read the flyer.
“’Cause Mom’s right. You’re too young and too pretty to spend so much time in here, all alone.”
Alex leaned both elbows on the kitchen’s bar counter. “Did I ever tell you how I used to be scared of, well, just about everything?”
On more than one occasion, Rose had mentioned Alex’s troubles with bullies. But Summer didn’t want him to know that his mom couldn’t be trusted with sensitive information. In the year since she’d moved next door to the Petersons, Summer had watched as one by one, his fears and inhibitions fell away, all thanks to this Zach person.
“I know how it feels to be scared. Not the same kind of scared as you were when...” His voice trailed off, but he quickly got back on track. “I just know Zach could help you. He’s a cool dude. And amazing.”
It had been a conscious decision to keep the details of the attack to herself. The only person who knew the whole sordid story was Richard O’Toole, and that was only because—
“If you’re worried about being alone with Zach, I promise to stay with you. At least at first. If you decide to talk to him, that is, to find out how he can help you feel less, y’know, scared all the time.”
More scared than she felt even thinking about calling Alex’s friend? That didn’t seem possible. Summer closed the flyer and slid it onto the counter, hoping Alex hadn’t noticed her trembling hands.
He flexed both biceps. “I wasn’t kidding when I said Zach is amazing. He taught me how building muscles helps build self-confidence. Did you see the Karate Kid movie? Mom made me watch it with her the other night. Thought I’d hate it, but I didn’t. That old guy was right,” he added, tapping a temple. “The bullies get you here long before they get you here.” Smirking, he gave himself a fake punch to the jaw.
But...her bully had snuck up behind her, grabbed her ponytail and... Summer cringed inwardly.
“Well, I better go. Midterms are coming up, and I have a ton of studying to