Page 67 of Keeping Guard
“I try not to sleep. When I do, I see Asim’s eyes staring at me.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “They’re full of blame. Even though I wasn’t in the room when he died and that didn’t happen, I still see them.”
“Are you seeing someone you can talk to about all this?”
“Yeah, on orders from my commander. I had my first appointment yesterday. The head doc doesn’t put up with bullshit. I’m kind of pissed that I like her.”
Clint chuckled. “Since I know how pigheaded you can be, you had no intention of talking, eh?”
“I plead the fifth.”
“Don’t be an ass, Noah. Talk to her. She’ll have the tools to guide you through this, to show you the way out of the dark tunnel you’re in.”
“I don’t know if I can.” He met his brother’s eyes. “Forgive myself.” He heard a muffled sob from the hallway, and then a moment later, the soft click of Peyton’s bedroom door closing.
“You can if you choose to.” He stood. “On that note, I’m outta here.”
Noah rose. “It’s good seeing you, douchenozzle.”
His brother strode to him and pulled him into a tight hug. “Love ya, numbnuts.” He stepped away. “I’ll see you tomorrow at Jack’s. You better have a princess at your side.”
“We’ll see. Not sure what she thinks about everything she heard.”
“Don’t underestimate your girl, brother.”
When Clint opened the door to leave, Noah said, “You know I love you, too, right?”
His brother grinned. “Yep, even though you never say it.”
“My bad,” he softly said. He’d never told another soul he loved them since his mother died. He needed to do better, at least with his brother and adoptive mother, who were the only people in the world he loved, anyway. There were also his SEAL brothers. Couldn’t forget about them.
As for a princess... He shook his head.Don’t go there, Alba. You’re just her bodyguard, and after tonight, she might not even want you for that.
He took Lucky out. “You were a good boy tonight.” He’d curled up at the side of his chair, and as if understanding there had been a serious talk happening, he’d stayed quiet.
When Noah returned to the loft, he walked down the hall to Peyton’s door. No light shone under the bottom. She wasn’t awake, waiting for him. He gently turned the knob, and as he suspected, it was locked.
“Smart girl,” he whispered.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Peyton stood in the shower, letting the water wash away her tears. Both Noah’s and Clint’s stories had broken her heart. Like Noah had said, Clint had just been a scared boy. Those awful boys were to blame for what was done to his friend.
As for Noah, dear God. Now she understood the haunted look in his eyes. How did one forgive oneself for a mistake that cost a life? She didn’t think she could if it had been her. Yet, it hadn’t been intentional, and she couldn’t begin to imagine what war was like or how anyone could make snap decisions in such stressful situations. Noah’s mistake was trying to be kind and respectful to an old man, and that was forgivable even considering the tragic result.
He wouldn’t want her pity, thus the shower cry. She needed to get her tears out of her system before she went to him. In a way, it hurt that he could tell Clint what had happened but not her. Yet, it was better this way. She would have burst into tears as her heart hurt for him, and he would have hated that.
After drying off, she put on leggings and his T-shirt, the one she’d never given back. It was huge on her, but it gave her both comfort and strength. She found him on his back on the sofa in the living room, and although he had the TV muted on some sports show, he stared at the ceiling. Lucky was sprawled over his chest, his eyes closed as Noah combed his fingers through his fur.
“Are you here to tell me to leave?”
“No.” Not even. She perched on the edge of the sofa at his feet. “I listened to you and Clint talk.” It was only right that she tell him.
His eyes met hers. “I know.”
“Oh.”
He looked so sad. She was glad she’d cried in the shower. If she hadn’t, she’d be crying for him now. He’d told Clint he didn’t sleep, something she already knew. But he had with her.
She stood and reached for his hand. “Come with me.” Without commenting, he pushed Lucky off, then let her lead him to her bedroom. She was operating off the cuff, letting her instinct guide her. The warm water of the shower had helped her feel better, and she thought it would him. By the time she finished, she was going to be squeaky clean.
