Halos and Heroes Ch. 33

Thank you all who have been reading and following along. I always appreciate getting feedback. It helps with becoming a better writer and it's always an ego boost, so feel free to reach out. I will always respond!

The usual spiel: This isn't a stroke story, (more porn with plot.) Be warned, it's very long. 33+ chapters, and many sexless ones to come before it gets sexy, which is why it was originally published under novels/novellas, but readers asked for it to be put under gay male due to content, so here we go.

This book is dedicated to all of the brave service members and their families who sacrifice so much every day so that the rest of us can enjoy the liberties that they swear to protect 0and uphold.

Although references in this novel may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are complete works of fiction. They are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental. In an effort to do the United States Army justice, and to show my respect to my country, I have applied all possible efforts to merge fact and fiction to entertain, while portraying the military, and the hardships and achievements of soldiers, with respect, dignity and accuracy to the best of my abilities. It's my hope that I've done you all justice, and that all of the creative licenses taken with this novel are understood to be the efforts of imagination, and not any judgment or disrespect against the U.S. military. Thank you all for your service.

***

Hell is yourself and the only redemption is when a person puts himself aside to feel deeply for another person. —Tennessee Williams

"Sam?"

Sofia's tone asked for permission to enter when her reflection appeared in the mirror over my bedroom dresser. I waved her in with one hand before I went back to the fight I'd picked with my tie. Right now it was winning in a landslide. Sofia lessened the chances of my strangulation by nudging my hands away so that she could loop the end through and adjust the knot with practiced precision. Though I felt like I'd failed A Guide to Being a Man 101, I was grateful for her help. I hated wearing ties, but it was a requirement with my dress blues, and the last thing I wanted to do tonight was embarrass Adelyn in front of her friends.

Sofia smiled up at me as if she sensed my anxiety. "Addie is looking forward to this more than you know, Sam. She always wanted to go with Connor to these types of things, but even when he was home he didn't make time for her."

"I love that she asked me. She's just going to regret it the moment we get out on that dance floor and she sees my version of the electric slide."

Sofia smiled as she continued fluffing my tie. "You'll be fine. She's as nervous as you are. She's been curling the same piece of hair for ten minutes."

"I get curls? God, I feel like I'm going to my prom all over again. Which I went to with you and Connor, so a singular date is a new experience. Hell, I don't think I ever went on a date with a girl."

Sofia laughed. "Tara will be there to save you if you start to drown. She's a good dancer."

I grinned. "I'm sure she is. You did fly your freak flag with her for twenty-three sec—"

I gagged as Sofia smiled sweetly, and pulled the ends of the tie through the loop hard enough to tell what color my tongue was.

I kept all further commentary to myself as Sofia finished the adjustments, then moved on to remove the lint from my jacket. She paused when her hand touched the ribbons and badges pinned to my uniform, lingering over the Silver Star medal. I'd worn it the day it'd been pinned to my chest the week after Tate, Connor, Devlin and I we were rescued from Afghanistan, but I'd deliberately left it off at Connor's funeral. I hadn't wanted to have anyone congratulate me for being a hero at that point, but if that's what Addie wanted me to be, I'd try my damndest.

"You're a good man, Sam. Please promise me that you'll always try to remember that."

I nodded and she smiled. "Wow, that was easier than I thought. Let's try another one while we're on a roll."

"What?"

"Go to Cuba. Book a flight right now, and get on a plane tonight after the dance. Ben has a small house there, and he gave me the address a while back when he offered us an open invite to visit. Surprise him, then bring home."

"Sofia, I can't."

"Why not? It has been weeks since you've seen him, and you're miserable. He probably is too."

I sighed. "If I thought it would make a difference, I would, but he's with his family, and his mom hates the fact he's gay. Staging some Hollywood-worthy confession would make it worse, and I just want him to be happy at this point, whatever that means for him."

"I think what he needs is you," she said with a shrug. "That's my two cents." She straightened my lapels. "There. You look very handsome. Addie's going to have to keep you close if she doesn't want one of those little girls trying to fly their freak flag tonight."

My shudder just encouraged the laughter at my expense that followed me into the closet as I tried to find my dress shoes. When I emerged, Sofia was sitting on my bed holding a small box on her lap. Her laughter had been traded for a small smile that faltered when she held the box out to me.

It looked ordinary enough—a simple wooden square. Nothing that would suggest a bomb or other destructive device, but she looked down at it like it might bite her.

"I've been waiting for the right time to give these to you, but there never seems to be one." Her expression softened. "He had his flaws, but Connor was your brother and I know you loved him."

When I didn't take the box, Sofia stood and gently pushed it into my hands. It felt light, but when I shook it, the distinctive rattle told me what was in there. Sofia brushed her lips across my cheek.

"Do what you want with them. That chapter of our lives is closed for us. You need to figure out how to close it for yourself." She smiled gently. "I'm going to help Adelyn."

The moment I was alone with Connor's dog tags spilled out into my hands, my throat clamped up. Made to withstand intense blasts, the tags had survived when Connor hadn't. They were a little reminder about the fragility of human life. I stared at the tags for a long minute, scratching my fingernail over Connor's name. They didn't belong in the house anymore, but I couldn't bring myself to throw them in the trash either. After every step of progress I'd made forward, rousing the anger to do something like that would be self-defeating, and I didn't want to give my brother that much power over me anymore.

I tucked the tags into the back pocket of my slacks until I could think of a better solution for their disposal, and made my way over to the laptop I'd borrowed from Sofia when I started job hunting. Apprehension rippled down my spine, telling me how stupid this was when I Googled flights to Cuba. There was one that left at midnight, but I hesitated. Not because of the price— which was astronomical considering how short the flight to the country was—but because if I did this, it would be the most impulsive moment of my life.

My finger hovered over the accept button, but before I could decide what to do, Emma bounced into the room to announce that Adelyn was ready. I closed the laptop, but brought up the information on my phone and saved it. Just in case.

When Emma and I walked into the hallway, flashes of light blinded me, shaming the Hollywood paparazzi. Sofia and her camera were a lethal combination, but I was grateful for her sudden transition to shutterbug because half blinded, I could pretend that the short, glittery gold number that picked up the blonde highlights in Adelyn's hair and the tan skin below it—a lot of tan skin—was just the result of one too many flashes to the face. My suggestion that her dress was too short to be appropriate for a church-sponsored function—let alone one attended by minors— was ignored, and the threat of getting my gun was met with boos and jokes at my expense.

Adelyn was happy to torture me though the photo-shoot. She posed like a media darling, popping the occasional bunny ears behind my head when I scowled at that damn dress. By the time Sofia's battery needed to recharge, I felt like I'd have to add a fear of cameras to the causes for my PTSD. The moment her back was turned, I bribed Emma with a ten-dollar bill and the promise of a night of Pixar tomorrow if she never saw the direction Adelyn and I went when we snuck out before their mother could find a back-up battery.

Adelyn's laughter carried over to me as I helped her up into the side of my recently purchased, used SUV to make our getaway. She chattered all the way to the community center, playing with the corsage I'd given her when we'd gotten into the car. I'd been worried she'd consider the delicate arrangement of pale yellow roses a hokey gesture, but her unexpected delight had been worth the embarrassment of going to the florist who'd looked at me with the kind of suspicion reserved for terrorists when I'd asked for something to impress a teenage girl. Trying to explain that Adelyn was my niece had only arched her painted-on eyebrows higher, and I'd watched the front door the entire time she'd been in the back room getting the corsage ready, convinced that the cops were already on their way. But I'd made it out of there without any charges placed except the one to my credit card, so it was a good day.

I quirked a brow when Adelyn turned toward me when we parked in the community lot.

"Wait," she said. I watched as she carefully removed one of the roses from the bunch to attach it to my lapel with two bobby pins from her hair. That small gesture of public acceptance was worth anything the world could throw at me, and I hugged her hard until she complained about being smushed.

I locked the car doors after we got out, and she slid her hand through my arm when I offered it as we walked up the steps and into the cheerfully decorated community center room. We got a few looks when we entered, but I swallowed down my self-consciousness when a few people thanked me for my service as Adelyn dragged me along to the punch table to get a bottle of water. After a few looks around the room, I felt marginally more relieved when I noticed that Adelyn's was one of the more demure hemlines in the room. Apparently what passed for teenage formal wear had changed from when I was a kid, but the behavior hadn't. When a swarm of giggling girls descended, I let them drag Adelyn off with my blessings. A night turned out in my uniform was tough enough without adding screeching female voices discussing lipstick, boys and fashion.

While the kids giggled and bounced around with teenage happiness that smelled like overly sweet perfume, and sounded like too-mature stilettos, the adults stayed in a semi-circle by the punch bowl making small talk. Occasionally, one of the girls would come by to steal her father for a dance. The women oohed and aahed, while those of us with dicks cringed, wondering who would be the next to fall victim to one of the poppy numbers. My turn on the chopping block came during a slow dance, thank God. Adelyn was tall enough in her heels to keep me from having to bend in half, and we moved easily around the dance floor. We glided around for about half the song before I saw her smile widen as she looked at something over my shoulder. Worrying about who I might have to shoot kept me from registering the voice right away, but I recognized the scent of cinnamon and woods before a warm hand settled on my spine.

"Mind if I cut in?"

My pulse jumped into my throat as Adelyn let go of my hand, reaching around for Ben's to put it on my shoulder, and let him take her place. She grinned and flashed me the thumbs up sign with more confidence than I felt, before she scurried away into another pow-wow of pink and sparkles.

I was tempted to follow. The threat to my ears was suddenly a more appealing option than forcing my gaze to meet Ben's.

The complete neutrality in his eyes punched up my anxiety level when our gazes me. We stared at one another in silence, and even though he'd been the one to cut in, Ben seemed to be waiting for me to make the first move.

"I thought you were in Cuba with your family."

"I flew in this morning."

Ben's voice was as composed as his expression, but I could feel the tension in his lean body when he pulled me in close to him. His cheek brushed mine, the skin along his jaw smooth and alien where his usual sexy stubble had been shaved clean.

"It's nice you came back in time for the dance. The kids are having a great time."

My tone was stupidly casual considering the knot of ice that had killed off the butterflies in my belly like a harsh winter when Ben didn't provide any kind of emotional response. I couldn't blame him. I'd always been lousy with words. Getting on my knees and asking for forgiveness would've been easier than navigating through the tension between us, but we were attracting enough speculative looks as it was. Though Ben wasn't closeted, I wasn't sure how accepting people were. But when I shifted to move us off the dance floor, his hand on my shoulder tightened. I got the hint, and gave a brief, almost imperceptible nod to acknowledge I understood.

"I didn't come back for the dance, Sam," Ben said holding my gaze until my heart thumped hard against my ribs at the intensity. "Tara called and told me what you did at the group the other night."

"What do you mean?"

"She said you opened up and let a roomful of strangers into your world. I know you're not a fan of therapy, so why did you go?"

"I needed to talk to you."

"But I wasn't there, and you still stayed and told your story. So I'm asking you again. Why?"

My throat felt rough as I cleared it. "Because I went for you, but realized I needed to stay for me. I had to get it all out, Ben. You were right when you said all this anger and resentment was poisoning me. I knew I needed to let it go to move forward. With or without you... But I really wanted it to be with you."

Ben watched me silently, giving me the impression he was waiting for the rest that was lodged in my throat.

"Can we talk outside? There are things I want to, need to say to you, but this isn't the most appropriate place," I said gesturing to the curious faces around us.

Ben glanced around as if just noticing them. He nodded as he let me go, then walked beside me out the door. There were people milling all around the steps, so we ended up in the parking lot, standing under the street lamps that illuminated Ben's reserved expression more clearly. Without a script to follow and no encouragement from him, I felt like the arc in the middle of the storm that had rocked Noah's world and made him roommates with a goddamn zoo. I'd gladly have taken those forty days and nights with things that could eat me over this silence that was devouring my heart.

My throat tightened, and my hands felt clammy when I rubbed them together just to give them something to do. "You shaved..." It was a lame opening to a necessary conversation, but it was all I had right now.

"I needed a change. Talk."

"I screwed up," I said getting right to the point without preamble since his tone told me he didn't have any patience for long buildups tonight. "Leaving you was the stupidest thing I've ever done in my life, and you were right when you said I'd regret it. There hasn't been a day that's passed that I haven't. And I'm sorry."

Ben was quiet for so long I began to fidget again, but then he spoke although he maintained that careful composure. "So, what now? Am I supposed to forget that my boyfriend dumped me in the hospital? Or the fact that he left me alone to make excuses for him to everyone in my life while he went off with another guy?"

"Ben, I swear to God, nothing happened between Max and me. It almost did, because I was drunk and thought pushing you away was the best thing I could do for you," I said, despising myself when I saw his expression falter, and his shoulders slump as if the words cut deeper than any physical beating.

"But we didn't go there," I said again. "Max isn't the one I want as a lover or a partner, and I should've come by your place that same night and told you that. But I was ashamed of how I'd handled the situation, and just shut down. By the time I got my head out of my ass, you were in Cuba. Something I didn't know until I went to the group looking for you."

"Would you have come after me earlier if you'd known?"

"No," I admitted, trying to ignore the instant hurt that sprung up in his eyes. "I was still running on stupid then, but Sofia gave me your address in Havana. I planned to come find you after the dance tonight."

"And what did you think that would accomplish? Me falling into your arms because I was so happy that you saw the light?"

"No," I said, my tone firm even though my knees ached from being locked to keep me from fleeing. "Just like I didn't go to the group that night to find you with an expectation of forgiveness. What I did is done, and as much as I want to find a time machine and go back, I can't. I went to the group to tell you that I knew I'd been a coward, but that's changing." I paused, inhaling deep. "I started one-on-one therapy, as well as family therapy with Sofia and Adelyn. Tara's probably told you I've also been to the sessions at the community center three more times since the first night, and that I've been volunteering at Maplewood."

"She told me."

That was all Ben gave me. It was probably more than I deserved, but I continued talking, hoping for a more volatile reaction. Having him yell at me would've hurt me less than this polite distance. "I quit smoking, and haven't had a drink in weeks."

"I'm sure your lungs and kidneys thank you." He paused. "So you did all this just to get my attention? So I'd take you back?"

My sigh sounded frustrated to my own ears. "No, because you were already out of my life by then. I just... I wanted to be a man you could be proud of even if we weren't together."

He didn't say anything, but I took his short nod as a green light to keep going. "Ever since I came back to Florida, I've been trying to make amends. For myself, for Connor...for everything we fucked up." I forced myself to continue, though the words were sticking in my throat now. "When you told me that you believed God had a plan for all of us, I didn't want to hear it because I couldn't understand how any of this pain could lead to something better. But after we split up, I looked back at each part of my life and realized that as disjointed as everything seemed at first, there was always a plan."

"And what was that?"

I kept it simple and as honest as I could. "To find my home in you."

I'd anticipated Ben's silence, but I didn't expect him to reach up to the collar of his dress shirt and pull out my dog tags. The metal gleamed under the street lamp when he presented them on their chain.

My knees went weak.

He still has them.

It was torture to stand there, waiting to see if he would hand them back. When they remained around his neck, I released another noisy breath.

"Do you know why I went back to Cuba, Sam?" Ben asked quietly.

"To see Catherine and the baby."

"Yes, but I also needed to get away from you."

I'd guessed as much so the truth shouldn't have stung the way that it did, but my jaw still twitched when I tried to hide the hurt. "I know I deserve that." I swiped a hand through my hair, ruining the gelled line the barber had styled into it earlier in the day. "And I don't blame you. After what happened—"

"Sam, I didn't leave because you hurt me," Ben said, cutting me off. "It was an accident and bruises heal. I left because you made me doubt myself. I questioned God's plan for me after you walked away, thought that maybe he was trying to tell me I'd misread all the signs I'd thought meant we were supposed to be together."