Finding Heart (Colorado Veterans Book 2) Read online

  Finding Heart

  Colorado Veterans Book 2

  Tiffani Lynn

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  1. Marina

  2. Dex

  3. Marina

  4. Dex

  5. Marina

  6. Dex

  7. Marina

  8. Dex

  9. Marina

  10. Marina

  11. Dex

  12. Marina

  13. Marina

  14. Marina

  15. Marina

  16. Dex

  17. Dex

  18. Dex

  Epilogue

  Also by Tiffani Lynn

  Copyright

  Finding Heart

  Copyright 2017 by Tiffani Lynn

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  For information contact Tiffani Lynn at www.tiffanilynn.com

  Cover Design by Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs

  Cover Photographer: Kruse Images and Photography

  Cover Models: Amanda Joan & Jonny James

  Editor: Twin Tweaks Editing

  Created with Vellum

  Dedication

  For my uncle, retired Master Sergeant Charles R. Moore USAF. Thank you for the years of dedication you gave to our country, first in active duty and then followed by civil service. If it wasn’t for your time serving, I’d never have known you. You and my dad taught me that friendships forged during military service can be some of the most important in life. Your presence and active participation in our lives has been a game changer. We wouldn’t be the same without you. I love you and am so thankful for you.

  Acknowledgments

  As always my gratitude goes out to my amazing husband and three fantastic daughters. Your pride and encouragement have helped me to continue writing and sharing my words with the reading world. Teddy, thank you for giving me 20 years of happily ever after. I’m crossing my fingers you’re ready for at least 20 more.

  To the U.S. Marine and long time friend—who wishes to remain unnamed—thank you for giving up a chunk of your time to answer questions and share your story with me. When I left our meeting I was inspired to write and that’s half the battle.

  To Officer Alex Koszo of the Union Township Police Department, thank you for answering random questions about police procedure and lingo. I’m sure I didn’t get it all correct but I got closer than I would’ve without your help. You’re a great friend, an honorable man and I appreciate you more than you know.

  Thank you former Army Staff Sergeant Matthew Musto for taking the time via text and phone to help me with ideas, information and inspiration. Your courage, strength and honor put you in a separate class from the rest of us. I’m so happy that you’ve finally found the other half of your heart. You earned the beauty and joy you are surrounded by. I wish you and Bailey many years of good health and happiness together.

  Special gratitude to Andrea Musto for helping me get in contact with Matthew. You’re an exceptional mother and friend and I admire you.

  Tara Connor and Jessica Spriggs, thank you for answering my medical questions. Your responses to my crazy texts made me laugh and helped me so much. I love you ladies!

  Finding the perfect image for this cover took forever and ended up being a team effort with the beautiful Amanda Joan. Once I saw Amanda’s laughing smile in reaction to the tender kiss from the sexy Jonny James I knew I’d found exactly what I was looking for in this image by Shauna Kruse. Thank you Amanda Joan for taking the time to help me and for the friendship we’re building. I adore you.

  Mia Sparks, you rock and I appreciate you for a multitude of reasons.

  The support and love from my TLC family is irreplaceable. Much love and gratitude to all of you. As always, what you find is what you find!

  Judy Swinson, Kat Mizera, Katharina LeBoeuf and Lexi Post y’all have each helped me in one way or another and I appreciate your support, encouragement and assistance. Kat Mizera thanks for pushing me harder and making me dig deeper while writing this one, it’s a much better story because of your input.

  Ruth Schlabach thanks for helping me conquer Romantic Times in a variety of ways. Having you there meant so much. I also appreciate you wrestling my new banner into submission. I know I couldn’t have done it without you.

  Finally, I’ll never tire of thanking my Beta Babes. April Klusman, Barbie Stokes Timpson, Gemma Blomquist, Jackie Ziegler, Judy Swinson, Kat Mizera, Lisa Qualls, Maria Robinette, Mia Sparks, Rachel Garcia, Rachel Javier and Terri Kuebbeler if I had a million dollars for each of you it still wouldn’t come close to your worth.

  Prologue

  Dex

  The harsh scent of smoke, sweat and dirt swirl everywhere, choking me. The constant pop of small arms fire seems to be coming from all sides. I realize it’s partially an echo from the damn mountain we’re stuck on, since the truth is we only have shots coming from two directions, but I can’t figure out how many of those fuckers there are.

  “Anybody hit?” I hear someone yell from my left side a little further down the line. Larkin was running point and Davis was between us. I glance to my right and see Davis hunkered down returning fire in a little trench area, but I don’t see Larkin. “Larkin?” I yell. No answer. More shots come zinging past and I drop my head down so I don’t end up with one between the eyes. “Stu?” I try again, louder. Still nothing. Fuck!

  I pull the grenade from my vest, yank the pin and toss it toward the brush where the shots are coming from. “Cover me!” I yell at Davis and run for the last place I saw Stu. Stuart Larkin and I have been best friends for years now. We were lucky enough to meet in boot camp, go through sniper school together and then we were assigned to the same platoon. I’ve never had a friend or anyone else in my life like him. The fact that he’s not responding has my blood pumping harder than it was even seconds ago when we were ambushed by the dirty bastards waiting about 30 meters out.

  Larkin’s boot is sticking out at an odd angle from behind a huge boulder so I dive toward him, avoiding the fire now aimed straight at me. His eyes are closed but I can barely see them because his helmet is skewed to cover his forehead and most of his eyes. He’s eerily still but I don’t have time to assess the situation because I can hear rustling in the bushes not far from me and the sounds are shifting more to my right, which means that they’ll be on us in the next few seconds. I heft Larkin over my shoulders and run back down the path. With bullets zipping past my head in alarming numbers, one of the new guys runs up to help me with Larkin and must trigger an IED because one minute I’m yelling at him to get down and the next I’m being thrown off my feet and hurled through the air like I weigh nothing.

  Heat more intense than I’ve ever felt in my life rushes up my back and consumes me, making me scream like I never have before. I roll around in the dirt until the fire is out. My whole fucking body hurts so bad I want to die but I have to get back to Stu; I’m praying he didn’t get burnt too.

  The smoke is thicker, the smell now more intense mingled with burnt flesh, and when I finally reach Larkin I realize he’s long gone. With a bullet perfectly placed in the middle of his forehead there is no other possibility.

  “NOOOOOOOOO! NO! NO!” I can’t stop screaming. Between the pain in my back and the pain t
hat my best and only real friend is gone, I don’t care if I ever make it off this fucking mountain. I drop my head to Stu’s chest and pray to a God that’s never listened to a single plea I’ve made, to take me too. The last thing I hear is someone yell, “Dexter! Dexter!” and my world goes black.

  Two Years Later…

  I shoot up in bed, covered in sweat, panting like I’m still in the middle of a fire fight that happened two years ago. It’s the same dream every single time and as real as the day it happened. I’ll never be free of the memory and sometimes I feel like it’s penance to pay for letting Stu get killed. I should have been running point that day, but we were in a hurry so he jumped in.

  The light to my room flicks on and I’m momentarily blinded. “The fuck, Les?” I snap, and she flicks the light back off.

  Stu’s wife stands in the doorway with the hallway light to frame her silhouette, leaning against the doorjamb. She’s breathing heavy and obviously freaked out. “Another one?” she asks.

  I wipe the sweat dripping down my brow and answer. “Yeah. I’ll be okay. Go back to bed. We have to be up in a few hours.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t go yet. The dreams are more frequent when you have too much going on in your head. You know you can stay here. None of us want you to leave.”

  I rub my eyes and lie back against the damp sheets and pat the empty area next to me. “Come here, Les.” I can hear the patter of her small feet as she follows my directions and climbs up next to me, snuggling in close. Leslie Larkin and I have a strange relationship with Stu gone.

  One drunken night about five years ago I promised Stu that if anything ever happened to him I would take care of his wife, Leslie, and their two kids, Rushton and Skylar. I never thought I’d really have to do it. He had too many things to live for; I was certain if something was going to happen it’d be to me since I had nothing to lose.

  After Stu died and I recovered from the burns from the explosion, I tried to go back to Afghanistan. I didn’t think I wanted to go back to civilian life, but without Stu, Army life sucked and I could never get past losing him. So when my enlistment was up I opted to get out and move to Tampa, Florida, to help Leslie and the kids. The plan was to stay with them until I found somewhere else to live nearby so I could make sure they were taken care of. That was a great idea in theory, but it didn’t take into account that both Leslie and I were hurting and lonely. Over the six months that I’ve lived here, we’ve found comfort in each other in a way that now makes me sick. The sexual attraction was building for months before we finally got drunk enough to do something about it and the result was sloppy sex due to the amount of alcohol involved.

  When it was all said and done we both cried, and I don’t cry, not in front of anyone, ever. The level of guilt I felt was crushing. Stu was the best friend I’d ever had, closer than a brother and the only person that I’ve ever trusted. It didn’t matter that he was gone when I took his wife to bed. That was his wife and always will be as far as I’m concerned. Because of that one drunken night, I knew I had to leave. Neither of us would ever move on if I stayed in Tampa; we had become a crutch for one another.

  “Do you have to leave, Dex?” she whispers, her arm holding tight across my stomach.

  “Les, you know I do. This isn’t good for either of us. It was too easy to slip into being Stu’s replacement and there is no way anyone can replace him. If I stay I’ll always be the guy who tried to slide into his life and that’s not me. I want you to move on and find someone that you can love separate from Stu. I want you to have a life again and not be so tied to his memories that you can’t breathe. If it’s me, you’ll never be free.

  “I’ll keep in touch. I still plan to be here for the memorial every year and we’ll work something out for me to see the kids in between. Don’t think I’m dumping and running. I’m just giving us some breathing room. I love you, Leslie, but not the way you deserve and I think you feel the same about me. We’ve held each other up for a long time now. Besides, you know if you ever need me I’ll be on the first flight back here.”

  “Colorado is a long way from here, Dex. You don’t have to go that far to give us a little space. I know it’s your hometown, but from what Stu said, you don’t hold much love for the place considering what your childhood was like.”

  She’s right. When I was eight and my grandmother died, I was thrust into foster care and shuffled around until I aged out of the system at 18 and joined the Army. Those are some horrible memories. However, when the headhunter called me to tell me he had two interviews lined up, one for the railroad in Kansas City, Missouri, and one for the police department in Colorado Springs, Colorado, I jumped at the latter option. My interview was easy and I was offered the job on the spot. I came back here to pack up what little I had and say my goodbyes. I love Rushton, Skylar and Leslie and hate to leave them, but I know it’s the right thing.

  I kiss the top of Leslie’s head. “Les, Stuart Larkin was the best man I’ve ever known and I made a promise to him that I won’t break. If you need me, call me. I love you guys, but I won’t ever be Stu so I can’t be plugged into his life like I’m an exchangeable part. Please understand I’m doing what’s best for all of us.”

  Her sniffle tickles my ribs where her face is. “I know. I just don’t want to go back to being alone. Besides, you remind me of him and when you’re here I don’t feel like he’s so far away.”

  “I know, sweetie. I swear it’ll be okay. Please trust me.”

  “If we’re talking about moving on, are you going to get the skin grafts for the scar tissue on your back?”

  “I already told you I can’t.”

  “But that’s not true, you can. The VA will even pay for it.”

  “Les, it’s not that they won’t do it, it’s that I can’t let them. That’s my reminder that I lived and he died. I need that.”

  “Dex—”

  “Shhh.” I interrupt her. “I’m fine, just let it go.”

  “But you aren’t if you still wake up soaked in the middle of the night, yelling for Stu. That’s not normal. I’m not going to argue with you about it, but if it’s really time to move on, I think you should have the surgery.”

  The next morning, I hug and kiss everyone and say my goodbyes. All three of them are crying so hard I feel sick to my stomach when the cab arrives to take me to the airport.

  It’s time to face life without Stuart Larkin again, for all of us, and I hate it. The pain I’ve felt after losing him is something I never want to experience again and I plan to keep everyone far enough away that I won’t feel the absence if anyone else in my life leaves.

  Chapter One

  Marina

  Shivering half-naked against a cement wall is not how I planned to spend my night. I wish I could say this is the first time I’ve been in this position, but it’s not. The question is, how will I get myself out of it tonight?

  As the cop gives me a quick pat down over the scantily clothed areas of my body, I cringe, hating this. There have been too many times in my life that unwelcomed hands have been on my body and I’ll never get used to it. My problem right now is I have no one to bail me out of jail if they arrest me. My best friend and roommate doesn’t have the money and no one else I know does either.

  The asshole cop takes things a little further, pausing his pat down for half a second before he flattens his palm on my hip and leans into my ear. “Chiquita, are you ready to make this an interesting night?”

  Ugh, his breath stinks like the chili dog I’m sure he consumed at some point during his shift and his hands are clammy against my bare skin. I press my face harder to the cold cement wall in front of me, trying to escape this scenario. It’s like a bad scene in a weekly television drama.

  “What do you mean by more interesting?” I know what he means but I’m stalling, hoping for a miracle. My friend Fern is quiet next to me and I hope she stays that way. There’s no reason for both of us to get what this guy is giving. Instead of telling me, he d
ecides to show me by pressing his slight beer belly and hard crotch against my back. Gross.

  He must be reading my thoughts because he tells me, “I think something can be worked out for you since you weren’t holding the blow, but your friend over there won’t have it so easy.”

  His left hand runs up the bare skin of my torso and over my breast while he continues to breathe all over the side of my face with his rancid chili-dog breath. How do I manage to get myself into this shit?

  “If you’re implying what I think you are, then my friend walks too,” I say, doing my best to sound brave. If I have to do this with him, he better let us both go. How am I going to get through this? Is this really happening? Rougher than he’s been thus far, he smashes me harder against the wall.

  “Chiquita, you’ve got a choice and it’s the only one you’re getting. Your friend is gonna sit in a cell tonight. What you do from here decides if you do too.”

  My throat is dry suddenly, so I swallow hard, hoping to draw some moisture. I should’ve chosen to fight, knowing my psyche can’t handle any more than it’s had to over the years. I’m terrified of what’s about to happen. I may have to go to jail tonight because the more seconds that tick by the less likely I am to do what he wants.

  “What’s it gonna be, chiquita?”

  Why does he have to take such a sweet term of endearment and use it while he’s being a douchebag? Fern moans and her knees give way. She slides to the ground next to us in a heap, but horny cop doesn’t flinch.

  “Fern!” I call to her and wiggle, trying to get to her, worried something’s wrong. He continues to hold me where he wants me. God, Fern! Why did you go back down this path? She was clean for a long time but from the story I got in the bathroom before we were thrown out of the club she started hanging with some ladies from her new job who pulled her back in. I can’t believe she did this with me here tonight knowing how I feel about drugs. Drugs are the thieves of my childhood and they changed the path my life was on to a much darker and more painful one. Earlier, when she was gone to the bathroom a little too long, I went to check on her and found her doing lines of coke. We were in the middle of an argument about it when security busted through the door and hauled us out. Apparently, someone turned Fern in and since they saw me with her all night I was being tossed out too.