Cole: The Wounded Sons, Leah Sharelle [the reading list .TXT] 📗

answers. Blame it on my recon background, but I suddenly needed to know everything I could learn about it and what Oaklee went through. There was a connection between us, the way I kept gravitating closer to her, touching her hand. Oaklee, too, seemed like touching me was important to her, holding onto my hand, brushing the tips of her fingers down mine. Both of us leaning forward, me on the coffee table, her in the seat. Our knees touching.

Since being in the army, my past relationships consisted of mainly one-night stands. My only long-term girlfriend had been my high school sweetheart, Poppy. We went through Year 7 to Year 12 together, but she broke it off with me when I signed up. Unhappy with my decision, the thought of waiting for me to finish my training or following me around the country to whatever base I might be assigned to. It was funny how that turned out, stationed not more than an hour away in Queenscliff, but still able to spend so much time in our hometown.

After her, I chose to keep things simple. That plan cemented when I got back from my first deployment with Team FIVE. My first taste of what I was capable of, my first nightmare. Hearing the screams a man made when he was dying of a knife wound or a bullet. That was when I turned from a social person to living a more solitary life when on leave, preferring the quiet to a crowd. None of my mates called me on it and didn’t insist on me joining them at the bar or at one of Bastian’s fight nights. They knew I was all in with them on the battlefield, but when the uniform came off, what I couldn’t do was turn off the lonely life of recon. I prowled around the compound at night, checking fences, putting to memory how many steps from one place to another. My mum’s blindness played a big part in that; since childhood, we learnt that skill to help her. Little did I know, it would serve me well in my chosen profession.

A little too well.

My powers of observation sometimes more a hindrance than helpful.

Like now, looking into Oaklee’s green eyes, I saw power and strength, but I also saw vulnerability, fear and worry.

“Do you have triggers, baby?” I asked, worried that my stuff up with drinking too much may have caused some of her buried feelings to the surface.

“I do, but I can’t really name them. They happen when you least expect it. I can look at myself in the mirror fifty times in a week and be okay, then the next time I look and see a bone sticking out too far, or not far enough, that can trigger old harmful behaviour. Sometimes it can be as simple as walking past a bakery and seeing a delicious treat in the window.” Her honesty floored me; how easily she spoke about her own nightmare humbled me.

“What happens then?”

“I have a mantra I repeat silently to myself over and over until the panic passes. I was truly one of the lucky ones, Cole. My medical team and support system worked with me to get me through to the other side. My grandparents, and in a way, my parents too, but my doctor really deserves the credit for my survival. She took the disorder seriously, understanding how debilitating it is when it gets hold of you.”

Oaklee’s face broke out into a stunning smile, taking my breath away.

“Not long after my recovery, I met Thayer, and she’d gone through something similar herself, not an eating disorder but just as traumatic. We have been besties ever since; she gets me, and in return, I put up with her verbal crazy.”

Chuckling, I shook my head. “Yeah, she has a unique way about her,” I agreed ruefully.

“She is the best person to have in your corner. She might be younger than me by a few years, but that girl has witnessed more than she needed to. She grew up fast, smart, and got herself out relatively in one piece,” Oaklee divulged without giving me too much.

“Do I ask?”

“No,” she chirped shaking her head, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders. “That is Thayer’s story to tell not mine.”

Nodding, I fell silent, absorbing everything Oaklee just revealed. It was a lot for both of us, but I felt somewhat lighter that we started to open up. There was just one thing I needed to say before we went any further.

“Oaklee.”

“Hmmm?”

“I am sorry for making you feel less than your worth. I should never have approached you like that while so fucking drunk. I indeed had no memory of it at first, but little pieces flooded my mind in the days after. Hints of a scent, and my skin would tingle when a flash of a vision of a hand moving over my body.” Placing one finger under her chin, I carefully lifted her face, so she was looking directly at me. “A moan playing on a reel in my ears,” I growled, loving the heat in her greens and the short pants of her breath against my face.

“Do you remember it now?” she asked, her voice low and hopeful.

“Enough to know we have something here, Temptress, but we also have a problem that can’t and won’t be ignored,” I pondered with concern. I did think that Oaklee and I could have something special, but we also had a big hurdle in front of us.

“Your dad,” Oaklee muttered, her smile falling from her lips and replaced with a worried frown.

Nodding in agreement, I let out a frustrated sigh. Dad asked me not to pursue Oaklee, and I have never gone against my father’s wishes ever in my life. Never contemplated it until now.

“He asked me to stay away from you when you started working for Mum.”

Oaklee’s eyes widened in surprise, then shockingly, a smile split her face again.

“He did?”

“He did.”

“Weird,” she murmured,