The Problem with Peace (Greenstone Security 3)

“Us,” I clarified. “We only…reconnected…before.” That almost hunger sparked again at the memory of that beautiful time in his apartment and Heath’s hands at my hips flexed.

I sucked in a breath as panic chased that warmth away with the reality of what happened after. I tried to focus on that night. The night before everything was shattered. But it was hard to hold onto beauty when ugliness clutched onto your soul.

“There was no talking,” I continued my voice rough. “No going over everything. No going over anything. And then we’re here. And it’s like, we’re…”

“Exactly where we’re meant to be,” he finished for me. “It wasn’t meant to be. Not how we got here. I’d change that if I could. Would give anything to change it. But I can’t. So I gotta take the small favors where I can.” His thumb brushed over my lips and I shivered at the contact.

And that almost hunger sparked up again. Teased at the bottom of my stomach. Fought against the ugliness residing there.

But it was a fight that it’d never win.

And I didn’t want every touch, every gaze to be a fight with Heath.

“My whole life has been chaos, Heath,” I whispered. “Granted, most of it has been self-imposed.” Heath’s eyes hardened at this, but I continued. “But now, after…” I trailed off, unable to finish that sentence. I took a breath. “After what happened, I’ve realized it, I know what I need. I need peace. And I can’t get that from you. From us.”

It was a lie. Kind of. I could get everything from us. But not without taking everything from him. Not without my ugliness draining all that was good inside him.

He regarded me for a long while. “There’s a problem there, babe. With that peace. You’re looking for quiet amongst that chaos you think is such a bad thing.” He smiled, and I hated that there was so much sadness and pain in that smile. “Your chaos is the single most beautiful and defining thing about you. You live life wild and loud, babe. I’m not talking about sound. I’m talkin’ about the way you smile, the way you enter a room. The way you love.”

I’d been so certain that the cruel way he’d talked to me before was what hurt me most. What made my insides bleed. But it wasn’t cruelty that was breaking me worse than ever before. It was his kindness. His love.

“My love isn’t sunshine anymore, Heath,” I choked out. “You know that better than anyone.”

He flinched, actually flinched at my words. “No, I fuckin’ don’t,” he hissed. “I know that standing here in the middle of a parking lot on a cloudy day, in a fucking cloudy point in our lives, all I can feel is sunshine. That hasn’t changed. That’s something that’ll never change. And I’m promising you that.” Something flared in his eyes. “Remember, Polly, I’m a man who keeps his promises.”

He pressed his forehead to mine, his thumb wiping at the single tear I’d let escape.

“I’m not inside your head, baby,” he murmured. “I don’t know how to help you, though I wish to fuck I did. I would give anything to be able to know exactly what to do, what to fucking say to make it…”

“Better?” I offered, I hated how cynical, how cold my voice sounded after the warmth of his words.

He rested his head on mine for a moment longer, then he straightened, hands still on my hips. “I’ll settle for bearable,” he said. “And I’m not meanin’ for me, or for your sister, or for Rosie, ‘cause I know how fuckin’ hard you’re trying to make it bearable for everyone else. I can see it in you. You’re exhausting yourself helping your family deal with this. Helping strangers deal with other shit. And I honestly don’t give a fuck about them. I give a fuck about you being able to smile without it taking every ounce of your energy to make it look like something you think it should look like. But you gotta give yourself a chance for that, Sunshine. You’re the most selfless person I know, but I’m going to request you be a little selfish in order to breathe again. ‘Cause I know you’re suffocating, even if you won’t admit it.”

The lump was bigger now. As was the hole in my chest. He saw it. He saw all of it. I thought I’d been doing so freaking well. I’d thought I was excelling at my performance. I should’ve known Heath saw more.

Saw the ugly.

He lived it, after all.

“I can’t,” I choked out. “I have to stay busy, to help people with their horrors, to understand them, because I have a visceral need to understand their nightmares, so maybe I can understand mine one day.”

His jaw was hard, was iron with even my small admission. So I knew there was no way I could ever utter the big one.