Page 27 of Trust

He’d been six feet off his target when the blast of hot air knocked him back with unexpected momentum. It was supposed to be a routine patrol op. But it ended up being one of the worst days of his career. They were in contact within ten minutes and did what they could to evade the grenade thrown into the middle of their fire team. His best friend rushed to meet the deadly explosion rather than avoid it. It was a sacrifice that should have been his. Was he ever going to be free of the guilt for failing to bring his men home?

The pressure in his chest eased after several attempts to drag air into his lungs. He leaned forward, resting his chin on the steering wheel, and studied the store's brick wall.

A hard truth slid through his gut, and he knew that if he and Liv were ever going to have a chance, he had to do something about the memories and guilt that ruled his life.

Not that he was considering it since he’d dismissed the idea a minute ago. But calling the Army shrink he’d spoken to all those months ago might not be the worst idea in the world. Hell, if for no other reason than to get his night terrors under control. Something his dead relatives would be sure to appreciate.

He groaned quietly at the prospect of digging into the cesspool his mind had become and pushed himself out of his truck. Was there another option?

Hearing his name, he glanced up and saw two women waving in his direction. He gave them both a tip of his chin and then hightailed it toward the hardware store.

What tear in the space-time continuum caused two attractive ladies to be so friendly? Out of all the Hawker brothers, he’d never been the one to garner women's attention and didn’t think the scars he now bore had changed that.

He shook his head, decided it was probably a one-time thing, and opened the wide wooden door of the store. “Better,” he mumbled as he cruised up the central aisle. The selection of drills caught his attention, and he picked up one he’d seen online and studied the bit.

“That’s one of our most popular,” a high-pitched voice informed him. “You want me to show you what it can do?”

Looking down, he studied a teenager with shocking pink braids and oversized glasses. “No thanks.”

“Are you refusing because I’m a girl and assume I don’t know anything about power tools, or because you’re just browsing while the family ghosts have a rager?”

“Neither,” he replied firmly. “And what do you know about the Hawker ghosts anyway?”

“A lot more than you’d probably guess.” She pushed her hand out. “I’m Zelda, and this is my family’s store.”

“Nice to meet you.” He shook the girl's small hand gently. “Guessing you’re operating off town gossip, and anything I have to add will be superfluous.”

Zelda pulled a stick of gum out of her overalls and unwrapped it. “I’ve been known to keep my ear to the ground and have amassed a nice pile of facts. But don’t be shy ‘cause I could always use more.”

Zane set the drill on the shelf and crossed his arms. “Is this a fishing expedition or a desire to confirm already acquired intel?”

“Both.” She pushed the gum into her mouth. “And if you could give me the down-low on the gossip that suggests you and your brother are the hot tickets in town and women far and wide are scheming ways to get an invite to your place, I’d appreciate it.”

“Really?”

Zelda nodded and then blew a bubble. “Also, feel free to comment on,” she leaned closer, “how you got Olivia to kiss you in front of God and everyone.”

Why was the idea of him and Olivia kissing all that alarming? He narrowed his gaze. “Has the beauty and beast thing put everyone back on their heels?”

“No,” Zelda said with a smirk. “Olivia hasn’t dated much since the tragedy, and…”

“Wait, what tragedy?”

“Oops, maybe I wasn’t supposed to say anything.” She took several steps back with her Converse squeaking against the linoleum. “Forget I said anything.”

“I’d rather not,” he called out to Zelda’s retreating figure. He ran his hand over his neck and decided he would have to figure out that piece of Olivia’s puzzle soon.

A large man with red hair and a matching beard approached. “Welcome to Haven Hardware.”

“Thanks,” Zane murmured, accepting the man’s outstretched hand.

“I’m Allen, and that was my daughter who just,” he lifted his fingers and made quotations, “spilled the beans and now has to regroup.”

“Didn’t notice any bean spilling.”

Allen clapped Zane on the back. “I doubt that’s true, but I appreciate you suggesting otherwise. He crossed his arms over his barrel chest. “Did you come in for a new set of wrenches? I figure you need a smaller one since the engine on the Ferris wheel is packed tighter than a can of tuna.”

Doing his best to acclimate to the rate at which information flew around the small town, he tried to remember what else was on his list. “I actually could use a smaller set and some…”

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