Unbreakable (18 page)

“You don’t need to worry about that. I get injections every few months that serve as contraception. I’ve seen how unwanted pregnancies can affect people so I’m careful.”

Miller heaved a mental sigh of relief. Thank god; he was in no fit state to be a father. However, that didn’t change the fact that he should never have let last night happen… Well, what was done was done. The priority now was to get Sophie as far away from him as possible.

“You need to go.”

“What?” She stayed where she was, staring at him with a confused expression.

“Now. You need to go right now.”

“I don’t understand. What were you dreaming about?”

“Sophie, didn’t you hear me? Come on, get your stuff.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what you were dreaming about.”

“Why does everything have to be a battle with you?” He glared at her and reached for her arm but she pulled it out of reach.

“Sophie, don’t make me throw you over my shoulder for the second time in your life.”

“Stop ignoring my questions. What were you dreaming about? What was your fault?”

He looked at her sharply. “What do you mean?”

“You kept murmuring ‘It’s my fault’ in your sleep.”

“None of your business.”

“Miller, let me help you.”

“Sophie, I warned you. Just because we had sex it doesn’t mean I’m going to answer your questions. I shouldn’t have slept with you. It was a mistake.”

He saw the hurt look in her eyes but it was quickly replaced by a hard expression. “You’ll answer this one. What was your fault?”

He looked at her without saying anything. It was impossible for her to remain an untainted part of his past. It had been too late from the moment she’d experienced his anger and known that something was wrong. Then he’d made things infinitely worse by sleeping with her and to finish with a bang he’d almost physically hurt her when he’d pinned her down. He shuddered to think that in his semi-conscious state he could so easily have done something worse than pinning her down. No, she had to stay away from him. It wasn’t safe for her to be around him, but the only way to make her go would be to make her hate him. Rather she hate him for being a jerk and what she thought was the truth than what was in fact the actual truth.

Steeling his resolve, he murmured nonchalantly “You know, this wasn’t part of the fantasy.”

“What? I don’t understand.”

“Oh, numerous times over the past six years I’ve fantasized about screwing you as an adult. Taking you in various positions, making you beg me to screw you. I’ve banged other people while I was in the army. Just because I wasn’t seeing anyone long-term, didn’t mean I couldn’t screw whoever took my fancy. I remember at one point when I had leave and I was in a brothel and I kept thinking to myself ‘I wonder if I could get Sophie to do some of the things they do here or if she’d be a prude about it’…”

“Why are you telling me this?” She stared uncertainly at him.

“You want to know why I didn’t want you to know I was back?” he continued nonchalantly. “Well it’s because I knew you’d want to visit and I didn’t know if you’d be a cock tease or whether I could actually get you in the sack. Turns out it’s pretty easy to get your panties off. Now I’ve banged you, fantasy complete. So feel free to see yourself out.” He lay back with his head on his arms, watching her calmly. He could tell by the expressions that played across her face that he’d done enough, it was merely now a matter of waiting for her to decide to leave. Sure enough, after several moments Sophie left his bed and walked through to the den. He could hear her getting dressed and then the open and close of his front door, followed shortly afterward by the sound of a car engine starting up.

He called on all his military training to exert an iron will that refused to go after her. He stayed where he was until he was sure she had driven away. Then he put on his running gear and left the house, running until he was sure no human could possibly hear him before he let out a bellow of rage. All he wanted to do was run back to the house, get in his truck and drive to her, confessing it was lies and begging her to forgive him for hurting her. But he would not. It was better this way. Rather Sophie had nothing to do with him than risk dragging her down with him.

***

Philip watched and waved as the sun set and Sophie’s car disappeared into the distance. The smile he had plastered on his face instantly turned to a fuming scowl as he turned to his wife. “I’m going to go and find out what he said to her.”

“Are you sure that’s wise right now? Maybe he should just be left alone for a while.”

“He already is alone. He effectively saw to that when he isolated himself from everybody, including the one person we thought could reach him. That boy’s messed up big time.”

Philip drove over to Miller’s and knocked on the door, which was answered after a minute by a sweating, tired-looking Miller. “Hello, Philip.”

“Am I disturbing you?” Philip tried to keep his tone as civil as possible.

“I’m in the middle of a weight training session.”

“That can wait. I want to talk to you. Can I come in?”

“What do you what to talk about?”

“Sophie.”

“I’ve got nothing to say regarding that subject. Thanks for stopping by but sorry you wasted your time.” Miller moved to close the door but Philip blocked the action with his hand.

“She’s gone, Miller. She left half an hour ago.”

“Well she has a life back in San Francisco.”

“What did you say to her to make her leave?”

Miller folded his arms over his chest. “None of your business, Philip. But trust me, just be grateful she’s gone.”

“How can I trust you, Miller? You’ve shut yourself off from everybody who cares about you. We want to help you but you won’t trust us to do so.”

“I don’t need your help. Now I’m going to ask you to leave, Philip.”

Philip sighed. “She cares about you, Miller.”

“Well then she’s a fool.” Miller closed the door without waiting for Philip to leave, and then he returned to his workout. He tried to burn out the dark rage that consumed him by pushing his body harder and for longer to the point where he was numb. Then he showered, dressed, retrieved the bottle of whiskey and sat outside, listening to the sounds of the night around him as he drank. Why was everybody so damn eager to help him? He hadn’t asked for help. He didn’t want help. He just wanted to be left to get on with things.

Miller took a particularly long swig and cursed. And how
dare
they tell Sophie that he was back? That wasn’t their choice to make. He’d told them he didn’t want to see her. Well, that wasn’t true…he did want to see her, he just didn’t want her to see him. Not the real him; the sergeant who had killed the men under him, men who looked up to him as their leader and friend, men who trusted him….not even men; half of them weren’t even twenty. Why was he the one who survived? He was the one who had led them into that abandoned warehouse to seek shelter for the night. He’d gone in first and checked it out…everything had been fine. Then he’d gone outside to retrieve the remainder of their equipment once everybody was inside and just as he’d reached the entrance the explosion had flung him backwards and he had hit the ground and crumpled like a rag doll thrown by an angry child.

He gripped the bottle of whiskey harder, unable to stop his body trembling in anger and grief as images of that night overwhelmed his mind. They were due to go home three days later. None of those men and boys would see home again and yet he was the one who was back. Why had he been spared? It didn’t make sense.

“Why me?” The question was quiet, little more than a murmur, but he kept repeating it louder and louder as he pushed off from the wall he had been leaning against and stumbled forwards until he was screaming into the black night. However, no answer was forthcoming. Miller drained what was left of the contents of the bottle and then turned and hurled it against the wall, causing an explosion of glass.

Then he walked back inside and collapsed on the bed. The last thing he saw before he slept was not the face of his men, but that of Sophie. Her wounded expression when he’d deliberately hurt her.
I’m sorry, Sophie
. But he would never tell her that; it was for the best that he never see or contact her again.

***

Three weeks had passed since Sophie had gone back to San Francisco. Kay watched Miller out of the window as she washed dishes. Most of his body was obscured by the hood of the truck as he worked on it, carrying out a minor repair that would save her or Philip having to take the truck into the garage. Finishing up the washing, she poured a glass of iced tea, gathered up the package and headed outside with it. Hearing her approach, he glanced up before returning to his work.

“I’m almost done.”

“I appreciate you doing this.”

“It’s not a problem.” He kept his replies terse as he worked.

Kay set the glass of iced tea and the package down on top of his tool box. “For after you finish.”

He looked briefly up. “Thanks.”

She left him to work and returned to the kitchen, busying herself with cooking as she glanced occasionally at him. He had been even more withdrawn than usual since Sophie had gone, and a black mood seemed to surround him at all times. Though he wasn’t uncivil to her, she barely got more than a few words out of him now. Part of her wondered if it had been a huge mistake to get Sophie involved. He seemed worse now than before she had come, but then perhaps it had been the push he had needed. Surely something was bound to give now…it was just a matter of time. She just hoped that whatever was in the package would contribute towards pushing him in the right direction.

Miller pushed the hood of the truck back into place and bent down to retrieve the iced tea and package. He recognized the handwriting instantly but continued to drink slowly as he turned the package over, the sender’s address on the back confirming it was from Sophie. He dampened down his curiosity, refusing to open the package then and there. He couldn’t possibly think what she would have sent him and he had no business getting excited simply at the mere thought that she
had
sent him something. No doubt it was a letter or the like informing him that he was an ass and she never wanted to see him again. He tested the package weight and couldn’t help but think that a simple letter wouldn’t have weighed this much. A thought occurred to him then that perhaps it wasn’t a single letter…maybe she had sent back all the letters he’d sent her during his military service. Though it pained him to think that she would do that, it would be a reasonable action on her part.

He put the package to the back of his mind and continued on with the work he had to complete that day but at night, after dinner, he stared at it on the kitchen counter, not wanting to open it but unable to stop looking at it.
Just open the damn thing
. Sighing exasperatedly he lifted it up and tore open the end, before taking a deep breath and tipping the contents onto the counter. Surprised, he stared down at the booklets, leaflets and handwritten notes before picking up the single-page letter that rested on top of the pile.

Dear Miller

I always said I wasn’t the best person to help you one-to-one, but hopefully this information will lead you to that person. I’ve made notes of useful organization contact details and websites that will be good sources of information in addition to the booklets and leaflets. I also spoke to a psychologist friend (don’t worry, I didn’t mention your name, it was more a general inquiry) and she recommended in particular the organization below. I’ve checked and there’s a branch in Dallas. I know it’s a fair drive away but I hope you can check it out at least once if you’re in the area for any reason.

Before you throw this package away, please take a look at some of the information at least. Not for me or your parents or Kay or Philip. Do it for yourself. Everybody needs a helping hand at some point. You gave me one six years ago. Hopefully I can give you one now.

Your friend

Sophie

Miller glanced at the organization details at the bottom of the page. It was a soldiers’ support group, an address and phone number for the Dallas branch. He placed the letter back on the counter and spread the booklets and leaflets out. They were all related in one way or another to support for soldiers who had finished their military service, including advice on how to adapt to civilian life again, social gatherings of ex-soldiers, as well as people and organizations to contact for intensive counseling.

He stared at the information, not sure what to do. Sophie had guessed right; part of him did want to just throw it all away. However, the other part felt guilty. He had said terrible things to her and driven her away and yet she still refused to give up on him. He didn’t understand why she would have bothered wasting any more time on him.
You owe it to her to at least read them
.

Gathering the package contents up, he moved them to the kitchen table and sat down to read. A couple of hours later he had finished and sat staring at the phone number in her letter as he contemplated what to do. It would mean revisiting all the old wounds he had tried to ignore.
Yeah, and look where ignoring them has got you
. He supposed there was always the option of trying it once. If he didn’t like it then he didn’t have to go back.
Just do it now while you have the nerve
. Reaching for his phone, he dialed the 24/7 number on the letter.