Sacrifice (Heart of a Wounded Hero)

I shrug my shoulders instead of denying it like I want to. I want to say that I have my shit together, but it's obvious that I don't. Tommy leans toward me. "You saw your best friend sacrifice his life for you and now what? You’re just going to throw it all away now?"

Instantly I get mad. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Tommy shrugs his shoulders, not the least bit offended. "You're right. I may not know what I'm talking about, but they do," he says, pointing at Jeremy and Cole.

Jeremy points between him and Cole. "Our best friend was killed serving right in front of us, and we have had to live with the guilt of surviving too. We know exactly what you're going through, Logan.”

I level him with a stare, but he continues, “Fuck, man. I was married. I have two teenagers, and when I came back, I lost it. I pushed away everyone that I loved and that loved me. I almost lost my wife."

Cole raises his hand and points to the scar on the side of his face. "I never thought I deserved anybody. After I got out of the hospital, I didn't even want to be out in public. There's no way that I wanted to inflict this on some woman. But then I met my wife. She doesn't even pay attention to my scar anymore. She tells me it's like she doesn't even see it."

Jeremy nods in understanding. “And the reason we were able to move on is because of our friend that lost his life. He wouldn’t want us to live with half our hearts.” He holds his hands up and laughs. “And trust me, I know we sound crazy all talking about our feelings and shit, but this is after years of therapy. Look, Logan, the truth is, you have to live... you have to love. You’re still here, and until the day you die, you need to make the best of it... for Noah.”

Both of the men go on about their stories, their past, and everything that they've overcome before Tommy interrupts them.

"You have to fight, Logan. Fight for what you want. It doesn't matter to any of us. If Harper is what you want, don't let her walk away. Go get her."

My nose scrunches up. "I don't want Harper."

Bryce throws his hands up in the air. He’s stayed out of the conversation for the most part. "Then what do you want?"

It pisses me off that he’s asking me what I want. The truth is, he didn’t know about Ella and me, so I can’t blame him for what happened. "Ella. Ella's the one I want," I challenge him.

He shrugs his shoulders as if it's not a big deal. "Well, what's the problem then?"

I grit my teeth, and my hands form a fist in my lap. It wouldn't take much for me to punch him in the face. We may have been friends for a long time, but it fucking guts me thinking about him with Ella. "You're the fucking problem. If she wanted me, she wouldn't have been out with you."

He sits back, and his mouth drops open. "I didn't go out with Ella."

"Fuck you," I tell him. "I saw you. Harper said that you went out together, and I saw you hugging her and kissing her when you dropped her off."

He chuckles, and I barely resist getting up and punching him in the throat. “First of all, there was never a kiss involved, and yes, she hugged me, but that was after she confessed to me that she has been in love with you for a long time. I got her the hell out of here because Harper was giving her shit. I took her downtown, and we ate cinnamon rolls. The whole fucking time I had to hear about how she felt about you. I told her that you weren't stupid enough to take Harper back. So it wasn't me that fucked up your relationship. She loves you, man."

I watch Bryce closely, wondering if he's telling me the truth. He doesn't even blink as he stares back at me. "She loves me?" I ask him.

"Yes," he answers simply, and when my mouth drops, I can feel all the blood rush to my head.

It's then that Tommy says, "What the fuck did you do?"

Chapter 16

Ella

I have three days to move out. I have everything packed up, but I've yet to find a place to go. A hundred times I've almost walked across the driveway and demanded that he talk to me, but I haven't been brave enough to do it yet. I've worried about him since the second I left.

I'm working on a book review. At least trying to. When my phone dings, I appreciate the distraction and pick it up, recognizing Logan's name on the caller ID. I open the messaging app holding my breath. "Help me," it says.