Cole: The Wounded Sons Read online

  Suppressing a groan of annoyance for not recalling that scene and because my dick was throbbing in my pants, I reached for her hands so I could hold onto something before I did something stupid like grab my dick and frighten her.

  “Yeah, that’s why I was drinking so hard. That day I got back from a deployment that took the life of one of our own.”

  “Deke, right?” Oaklee whispered softly, one finger tracing over my thumb so gently I could have imagined it.

  “Deke Williams, or Signal, as he was known on missions.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why was he known as Signal only then?”

  A smile ghosted over my lips at her interest, she should be grilling me about taking our night and turning it into a nightmare for her, but instead, she was interested in Deke’s mission name.

  “We all have one, and we use them when on missions rather than our given names. It is a security measure, so the other side can’t find personal information on us,” I explained as simply as I could.

  “What is yours?” I knew that was coming, and fuck if I didn’t want to tell her, but that was not possible. Around the Club, sometimes Gabe called Bastian Ammo and vice versa, Bast letting a few Tanks loose, but we tried not to use them unless we were in deployment mode or at the base.

  Shaking my head, I ran a finger down the length of hers. “Can’t tell you that, baby, all the names are secret, but mine more so than the others due to my role in the team. Suffice it to say, if that information got out, it wouldn’t be good.”

  “So, don’t ask what your role is either?” Oaklee surmised quickly.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Blowing out a breath, Oaklee narrowed her eyes at me in concentration.

  “Okay, well, I am going to go out on a limb and assume that you and the team were there?”

  “No, just me,” I clipped harshly, too harsh to talk to Oaklee, but the woman was too smart for her own good.

  “Can you tell me?”

  “A little bit, yeah, do you want to hear it? It is the reason I got so wasted I forgot I had sex with a beautiful woman and made her think I didn’t give a shit.” Holding my breath, I waited for her to either tell me to continue or shut the fuck up. Either way, I wasn’t looking forward to it.

  Oaklee surprised me by digging her nails into my skin, expelling an annoyed growl.

  “Hey!” Pulling my hand back, I inspected the white indent of her long nail on my thumb. “Easy, Temptress.”

  “Then don’t piss me off.” Taking back my hand, Oaklee held it again and gave me her green eyes. “I asked, didn’t I? Now stop focusing on the night for a minute and tell whatever you can.” I wished that the lighting was better out here, so I could see the sincerity there that I could hear in her voice.

  How the hell have I not seen how amazing this girl is until now? When Dad warned me to stay away, at the time, I thought nothing of it. Oaklee had not been on my radar at that time, yeah I thought she was pretty, and I liked how she watched me, but I didn’t see her, really see her.

  My eyes were wide open now.

  “He died because he was stupid.” I began quietly, my anger still very much with me. “He made idiotic decisions, took stupid risks, and forgot he was part of a Tier 1 team.”

  “He got himself captured, and I was sent in to get him back. I went in without the others, ordered to.”

  “Surely that isn’t standard procedure?” Oaklee enquired correctly. Maybe she knew someone in the military, or perhaps she was just astute. Whatever it was, her questions made me want to keep talking.

  “No, it’s not. Not in this circumstance, but the major knew that the boys had to be pulled out. Low on ammo and desperately low on sleep, he made the call, and I stayed back with a US team while Team FIVE returned to the FOB and were ordered to board a plane for home.”

  “And you weren’t tired?”

  “I have a unique skill set,” I replied vaguely, not sure how much I wanted to get into what I did. I have a hard enough time dealing with my job description and role in the team; letting Oaklee know felt … dangerous. What if she heard me out then decided she wanted no part of my life? This tiny tempting slip of a woman interested me more than that. Her sweet smile, her honesty, and her sass were pulling me in faster than I thought possible. Back in the bar, she didn’t back down from me, and I found that I liked that about her too.

  “Okay, moving forward,” Oaklee allowed, giving me a pass on explaining myself any further, “you found him?”

  “Yep, found him in a pretty bad way, we got out, and I hiked us back to the HLZ, which took a while and …” my throat clogged, the words stuck. Saying them out loud hurt too much; I was still too raw. It had only been a week since Deke died on the floor of the chopper. I was still grappling with how to deal with it and compartmentalising his death for the rest of my life. I had not even talked to Dad about it yet, only with the team. We were all so mad still, pissed off at Deke for his actions, way too angry to put it behind us.

  “Guilt is a brutal burden to have on your shoulders, isn’t it?” Oaklee murmured softly, the way she said it, telling me she had some experience herself.

  “That it is,” I agreed, absently lacing our fingers, turning our hands enjoying seeing them joined.

  “I understand some of what you are saying, Cole. I may not have the death of a mate playing through my mind, but I do have some experience of feeling guilty.”

  “How?”

  Oaklee leaned closer to me, this close with the light behind me, I could see the flecks of gold in her green orbs, mesmerising me.

  “My parents had me when they were very young, teenagers actually. Mum was sixteen and Dad was only a year older. Their parents supported them, but they never got the hang of being young parents. I bounced back and forth between my dad’s parents from the age of twelve months. Sometimes I stayed with my grandparents for months at a time, then Mum would want me back, so they tried again to be a family. This happened for years, either Mum or Dad got in a mood to have me around, but having a kid always got in the way.”

  “Finally, my grandfather had had enough and petitioned the court for custody of me, but by then, it was too late. Mum and Dad’s indecisiveness and lack of caring for their own child had done damage.” Oaklee sniffed, and my heart constricted as I waited for her to continue. If she tells me they hit her, I was going to go hunting. Plain and simple. What I wasn’t expecting, though, was what she said next.

  “Their fights were always about me, the fact that they stayed together for years was surprising in itself, and I applaud them for that. They fought about money, about not being able to go out drinking with their mates. There were so many nights I would lie in bed and listen to them bitch and moan about keeping me, about what a mistake it was to have me.”

  “Fucking cunts,” I growled low and dangerous. How could a parent ever think that about their own kid! My heart ached for that young girl; hearing such horrible shit about herself gave me a deeper appreciation for my own upbringing. The love and devotion from my parents that came so easily and completely, I couldn’t imagine the horror Oaklee went through on her own.

  “What do you mean the damage had been done?” I almost didn’t want to know the answer, what if she said she tried to—NO! She can’t tell me that! Without thinking about it, I flipped her hand and looked for evidence if that was the case but stopped when Oaklee laughed softly.

  “No, Cole, I didn’t do that.” Her reassurance was short-lived, however.

  “At the age of thirteen, I developed the eating disorder bulimia that quickly turned into anorexia. From then and until I reached nearly twenty, I was plagued with the disease, spending so much time in and out of hospital and clinics, I was known as a high-risk patient. At my lowest, I weighed just thirty-six kilos, and by that point, I was fed intravenously and put in a secure wing of the hospital, so my every move was watched. I wasn’t even allowed to go to the toilet alone.” Oaklee told the stor
y of her disease as if it had been nothing more than a cold, her nonchalant shrugs as she spoke broke me and made me so fucking proud of her all at the same time.

  I wasn’t familiar with eating disorders; of course, I knew what anorexia nervosa was, but I have never known anyone close to me go through it. My mind rattled with questions, demanding 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, then giggled. “He growls a lot, doesn’t he?”

  “That he does,” I agreed, joining her with a chuckle of my own.

  “Hey Cole, what are you doing tomorrow?” Oaklee asked suddenly, her pretty face lighting up with mischief.

  “Nothing, why?” I hedged, unsure yet what all her expressions meant, but fuck, I was looking forward to discovering each and every one of them.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  OAKLEE

  I was contemplating ringing Cole a dozen times this morning, telling him that coming today was a bad idea.

  Did I?

  Nope, instead, I dressed in my best and tightest jeans, pulled on a white singlet top, did a light makeup job and teased my long, black hair into a sexy, messy bun.

  Inviting Cole to my place today had to be right up there with sleeping with a man while he was pissed as a fart and had little memory of doing it, but here I was standing out on the front curb out the front of my grandparent’s house watching the sexy man in question riding slowly down my street on a big, black Harley.

  Desire pooled between my legs as I watched the rumbling machine motor slowly towards me, the rider dressed in black jeans and a black tee, much the same as he had been last night and pretty much every other time I saw Cole at the compound. After a deployment he always arrived in his camo greens but always changed into his black ensemble. The only extra additions were his black aviator sunglasses and the helmet covering his black hair.

  Black eyes, black everything. Was his heart just as black?

  Last night, he showed me a light in him—a kindness and gentleness. There was something more than pain in the depths of his inky black eyes, and it shone at me when he held my hand, tracing his fingers over my skin as he listened to my story. Telling me about Deke and bits and pieces of himself, I am sure only his team would know about him.

  Cole wasn’t the first person I talked to about my battle with anorexia, and I wasn’t ashamed of what I went through, not by a long shot. He was, however, the first person I felt comfortable opening up so quickly to, though. Cole’s reaction surprised me, seeming more pissed off hearing of my parent’s treatment of me, even asking me about triggers, really genuinely interested in learning what
I went through and was still to this day.

  The closer the bike advanced, the clearer my idea formed in my mind. Hearing that Creed had warned Cole from coming near me surprised and shocked me. Why on earth would Creed tell his son to do such a thing? It made no sense to me; Cole was hardly around the compound when he came back from overseas or the base. I spent most of my time with Memphis and the bookstore. What made him think that our paths would cross enough that he asked his son to stay away from me?

  For what reason? I swear the Stephens men were complicated, and maybe if they talked more and growled less, I might be about to get a handle on things better.

  I knew one thing, I liked Cole … a lot. He said last night he believed there was something between us, something he felt strong enough about to defy his father and agree to come to me today.

  Excitement trickled down my spine when the huge bike came to a stop, and Cole switched off the engine, his long legs planted on either side of the road, his thick thighs holding the bike in place.

  “Mornin’, Temptress,” Cole drawled, his glasses hiding his eyes, but I felt them travelling down my body like a caress.

  Fighting to control my body’s natural reaction to him, I dug deep for some sass and planted a smirk on my lips.

  “Mornin’ Rambo, getting a good look?”

  Kicking down the kickstand, Cole chuckled as he gracefully and very sexily climbed off the bike. I called him that silly nickname that night, and he had the same reaction, his own fault for not protesting because I kind of liked it now.

  “I am indeed, baby. I am also wondering what you have in store for me today,” Cole wondered, taking off his sunnies and hooking them in the neckline of his tee.

  My skin tingled with the endearment, just as much as his deep voice caused tingles elsewhere. What was it about his incredibly deep voice that made my core clench with need? During our night together, he used that voice like he used his cock to get me off, whispering in my ear, murmuring against my skin, rumbling deep, throaty moans into my pussy when he ate me.