Page 24 of Take Hold of Me

8

Wills

Ideclinethe flight attendant’s offer of champagne for the second time. I’m on duty, so that means no alcohol for me. Seated next to me in the ultra-plush first class seats is Emilie, who waves the stewardess off with a half-full glass. First class suits her—this is whereshebelongs. Not me.

“I am so happy you decided to come with me.”

What can I say to her? I’m not telling her of my increased nightmares ever since the red carpet debacle. Of the night sweats that engulf me in reliving the night I killed Cole’s stalker.

Glancing at the beauty next to me, I offer her a half-smile and am rewarded with a blinding one from her. This needs to be shut down. Adjusting the brim of my baseball cap, I remind her, “I’m only protecting you on this trip. I have feelers out for my replacement.”

Her eyebrows knit together. I ignore the rush of want to soothe them. She’s just a client.My last client.

“Well, I am happy you were able to take time away from your gym.” She pulls a magazine from the side pocket and places it on her lap. “Tell me about it,s’il vous plaît.”

My thoughts freeze. Needing to keep my distance, I decide to give her just the basics. “We have all the typical machines, plus a rock wall, massage and other classes on site.”

“A rock wall!Oh la la.Sounds like a very interesting place. How did you come to buy it?”

How much do I want to share with her? I shrug. “I’ve known about the gym from the beginning. I wasn’t a member, but I did work out there from time to time.”

“Oh. Did you know the owners or something?”

I take in a harsh breath and pat the dog tags around my neck. “It belonged to my sister and her husband.”

Her hand stills over the magazine on her lap. “Older or younger?”

I smile, my thoughts on Three. “Younger.”

“I have a younger brother, Gerard. He is in a band that is trying to make a name for itself. When he was in Paris, Cole gave him some good advice.” She tilts her head. “Is your sister in LA? Is she starting a family—is that why she is selling the gym to you?”

Images of Three as a mom cloud my vision. She would’ve been a great mother.

“Wills?”

I reach for my cup—real glass, thanks to being in first class—and swallow the soda, the ice cubes bouncing against my teeth. “No, not exactly.” Even after all this time, saying the words opens deep wounds. When I was getting to know Emilie last year, I was able to avoid this topic. Time’s up. “My sister died two years ago.”

“Oh, I am so sorry.” Her hand lands on my forearm. “May I ask what happened?”

I suck in a breath and look at the woman sitting next to me. Her hazel eyes are drawn in compassion, somehow making it okay for me to say the next words. “My sister was a Marine. She was killed by an IED in Afghanistan.”

I close my eyes. Get yourself under control, man. Stretching my legs, I study my sneaker-covered feet.

Emilie’s French accent fills the silence. Squeezing my arm, she says in a soft voice, “I am so sorry. I cannot imagine what it would be like to lose Gerard.”

Her words touch a part of me that I’d walled off years ago. For some inexplicable reason, the need to talk about Three bubbles to the surface. “My sister was your typical tomboy, always wanting to be with me and my friends.”

Emilie releases my arm but stays facing me. “And you did not want her around, right?Mamanmade me take Girard with me sometimes. All my girlfriends thought he was cute, but I wanted him out of my way.”

A memory of her begging our parents to join me at Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu classes surfaces. She was so tough. Fearless. She would go up against the biggest guys in the room and sometimes they didn’t evenlether tap them out—she bested them fair and square. A smile tugs at my lips.

“Would you like to share?”

Startled, I glance at Emilie. The ache of my sister’s loss is still with me, but Emilie makes me want to talk about the amazing person she was. “I was just remembering when she took Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu classes with me and kicked some serious butt.” It’s been so long since I was able to smile at the memory of something my sister did. Why do I feel as if it’s okay to do so now?

Emilie’s answering smile makes me feel good about sharing. “It sounds like your sister was trying to impress you.”

I twist my wrist, causing the ice cubes to clank in the glass. “She was a good kid. And then she grew up and joined the Marines.”Like I should have.The ever-present darkness reaches up and grabs me by the throat. I clench my teeth to keep my feelings at bay.

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