Page 20 of Beast of Misty Mountain

The bell over the front door rings again, but I force myself not to look. I spent the first half of my shift watching the door like a hawk until Tessa called me out and told me not to waste my energy on a man who did me wrong, but my heart kept breaking over and over when Milo wasn’t walking in.

If Milo cared, he’d be here.

“You boys all set?”I ask, delivering a fresh pitcher and clearing the plates and silverware from their dinner.

Eli’s final dart thuds into the cork, the scoreboard flips to match point, and he turns to me. “Look who’s here with the good stuff,” he calls. “C’mon, Marilee, take a break and keep me company.”

I set the tray on their barrel table and give him a long look. “I’m not sure what Hank and Tessa would say about that. All you boys here are keeping us plenty busy.”

He raises his glass in my direction. “I’m willing to negotiate. Stick around for the finals and be my lucky charm?”

“She’s too good for you, man,” one of his buddies teases, and everyone in the group laughs.

Eli groans. “Traitor.” He pivots back to me, grin sliding into something softer. “Seriously, hang out. I’d enjoy your company.”

I open my mouth to answer, unsure. But when his buddy looks over my shoulder and whistles low, I follow the direction of his eyes. “That looks like trouble.”

Milo is stalking across the bar, his eyes blazing.

“Beast. How you doing?” Eli asks, standing up straighter. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Milo stops inches from Eli’s chest. “Back off,” he growls. “She’s mine.”

Eli lifts his palms. “Easy, man. Marilee and I are just talking.”

I shove between them, plant a hand on Milo’s sternum, and push him back. “I am notyours,” I snap. Anger bubbles up in me. Howdarehe? “If that’s what you think, you need to leave. I’m not property, and you have no say in who I talk to.”

Eli tilts his head. “Everything okay between you two?”

“It will be when he leaves.” I stare at Milo. Of all the things I thought I’d feel when I saw him, this level of fury wasn’t it. “Again,” I add for emphasis. Milo falters, and I see he received my message loud and clear.

Hank’s heavy steps cut through the commentary. He plants himself beside us, towel snapping. “Problem?”

Milo stands his ground, then exhales heavily and lifts his hands as if in surrender. “Marilee, please. I’m sorry. I need to talk to you.”

Hank turns to me, his arms crossed over his chest. “You okay with this, Marilee?”

Am I? It’s been most of a week since I left the cabin. Have I wanted to talk to Milo? Sure. Did I think I’d get the chance? Not really. His timing isn’t great, either. After feeling so happy after Hank’s speech and send-off, my emotions are swirling in a different, more fragile way.

“Sure,” I finally say. “Let me take out my next couple orders, then I’ll come over.”

Hank follows me back to the bar. “You sure you’re okay with this? One word and I’ll eighty-six his sorry ass.”

I glance quickly over at Milo, who is sitting with his head in his hands. “I don’t know. Ask me after I talk to him.”

CHAPTER 10

MILO

When Marilee finally takes a seat across from me, my heart beats so fast I wonder if this is what the beginning of a heart attack feels like. “Talk to me—please,” I blurt. My voice sounds raw, but it’s nothing compared to the pain I’ve felt every day since she left.

Marilee crosses her arms. “Say what you have to say.”

I nod, chest tight. “I was twenty-eight when my convoy hit an IED outside Kunduz.” The words taste like rust, but I keep going. “Carter and Santiago rode in the last Humvee. They’d spent the morning arguing about whose hometown had better barbecue. One minute, they were laughing. The next—nothing but fire and metal.” My throat closes. I force air through it. I can still smell the fire and carnage all these years later. “I pulled at the wreck until my nails split, but they were already gone. That’s how I got my scars.”

Her expression softens, but she lets me talk.

“I flew home for their funerals, told their mothers I’d bring the rest of the team back alive. I believed I could. Then Iredeployed.” I rub a thumb over the edge of the table. “Three months later, a drunk driver took out my parents and both grandparents while they were on a Sunday drive. Four caskets, one service, and all I could do was watch on a laptop with a shitty internet connection because planes were grounded that week.” My voice cracks. “I couldn’t even be there to bury my family.”

---