Irreparable (Wounded Souls)

  ISBN- 978-1499313239

  ISBN- 1499313233

  Irreparable Copyright © 2014 Amanda D. Lanclos

  Published by Amanda D. Lanclos

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Published: Amanda D. Lanclos, May 1, 2014:

  Editing: Angela Pratt at Lily Rose Editing

  Cover Design: Becky McGraw

  Formatting by: Brenda Wright

  This book is intended for a mature audience of eighteen and older.

  To my mother, Lisa DeDeaux. The woman who believed in me, even when I didn’t always believe in myself. I know you are not here to physically read this, but I honor you with it. Also, to every man and woman who has fought for my freedom in some form of the Military.

  First off, I have to say thank you to my amazing husband. He has supported me and went to bed alone more than a few times while I stayed up and wrote this story. He sacrificed our time together to help me achieve my dream.

  Secondly, I have to say thank you to MJ Nightingale for helping me lay this out. I never thought I could write a book and one of my fellow authors helped me see that I indeed could. Thank you for helping me outline and map out the inspiration for Jameson.

  Thirdly, Jennifer Watkins, you are my support. You have been with me from word number one. Thank you for believing in this story before I even believed.

  Also, my lovely editor Angela Pratt. Thank you for being my friend, and not wanting to kill me with my first book. I adore you and I love you for putting up with my crap.

  My amazing formatter Brenda Wright! You rock and I appreciate you helping me!

  Becky McGraw – Thank you for my amazing cover, which I know I bugged you about for a week to get right! I adore it and I adore you! Thank you for helping this small town girl achieve her dreams!

  To my friend Julie Mishler, who is the one who wrote the poem that brings my characters back to each other! Please don’t stop writing! You are amazing!

  Also, thank you for buying this book! You are helping me prove to myself that I may be good at something I never thought possible!

  Walking down the road in my APC with my M16 in my hand and my 9mm pistol in the holster on my belt, I keep my eyes open looking for any threat. My brothers are behind me and for the life of me I cannot shake this feeling that something bad is going to happen. Johnson looks over and I hear in my earpiece “Carter! Down the road.”

  Looking up at Johnson, I see those blue eyes that are always so alert and I see where he is looking. Down the road sits a group of Taliban men, waiting to hear the word and unleash their vengeance on the American Marines making their way to them. On days like today, I look at my brothers and think about why the hell we do this to ourselves. I think of my girl at home and know that she is the reason behind it, because these bastards killed her mother and sister. They were in that plane that crashed into the field in Pennsylvania on September eleventh. Leila was sitting next to the man that called his wife and decided to take down the plane that day. Mrs. Helen was sitting in the next row and she was trying to use the phone to call Mr. Joseph but could never reach him.

  Everything goes quiet as I watch my comrades walking to the crowd of men trying to break into our makeshift base. We have a couple of tents set up a few miles out of the camp in Afghanistan. It’s hot and humid, which makes wearing this gear even more miserable, but it’s something you grow accustomed to. That’s when I see it; the men keep looking back and forth between us and a spot we are walking towards. Not many people know that this is a sign that there’s a bomb, and I wouldn’t either if I hadn’t seen this happen before. They are just waiting for us to set it off. Jackson is the leader in the mission, and I get nervous.

  I step up and run towards him; he’s the first in the group and he’s a good thirty feet from me, followed closely by Andrews, Black, and Miller. I scream and grab Johnson pulling him behind me as I try to get Jackson to move away. “LANDMINE JACKSON! MOVE YOUR ASS!” But it comes out of my mouth too late. I see it happening before he steps on it and I am losing four of my closest friends and confidantes in a matter of seconds. Mary-Beth flashes through my mind as I see the mine detonate.

  Jerking out of the bed I gasp, my body drenched in sweat, it’s something that I’ve become accustomed to. Four months I’ve been in this hospital reliving the pain of that night, and I still relive it every day I wake up and look down at my lower half.

  Today is the day I get to leave this hell hole I have been placed into by the VA. I look around the room at all the high tech equipment they have all around me. There is a heart monitor and it is beeping like crazy as my eyes land on Mary-Beth sleeping peacefully on the pull out couch. It took two months to get me back to the States after the bombing; I had to have extensive therapy for the burns I sustained. Luckily for me I didn’t have any scarring, but my legs couldn’t be saved.

  I can smell the hospital smell, you know what I mean? The clean smell, the smell of alcohol wipes, and the smell of iodine as it goes on to clean your skin. That is a smell I don’t believe I will ever be able to forget. It is etched into my brain forever.

  An honorable discharge is what I got after having my legs blown apart and four of my best friends stripped from me by Al-Qaida. I have been through three extensive surgeries, and unfortunately by the end of them, I have lost both of my legs.

  I look over and smile as I notice Mary-Beth laying on the couch of my hospital room, her brown hair covering her beautiful face. I laugh softly as I see the drool running down her chin onto her pillow from her plump lips. Three years she waited for me after high school and I thank God every day because, let me be honest, I would have given up a long fucking time ago if it weren’t for her. She stirs and sits up and wipes the drool from her face and catches my eye. Standing from her make shift bed she gets up and comes to stand before me.

  “Did you sleep well?” she asks. Looking into those beautiful emerald green eyes I know she knows I had the dream again, so I will not lie to her; she sees through them anyway.

  “Eh, I had a rough night but it will be fine. I’m just ready to get the hell out of this place.” I smile and lean into her hand when she places it on my cheek, but a feeling of dread washes over me as I look at the wheelchair I have been given.

  I hate that fucking thing. I am a man and I shouldn’t have to rely on anything to help me get around. Well, except for my midnight blue 2012 Mustang GT waiting at home for me. I thought I had a reason to hate the men that performed those acts of terrorism after 9/11, but after February 2013 my hate has changed. If I could I would kill them all with my bare hands.

  “Are you ready to get out of here? I know a little girl who is going to be so excited to see you again.” Mary-Beth smiles and when I shrug she lets out a sigh. “Jameson, I know you’re dealing with a lot of loss baby, but you have to remember, you’re here and you survived. You cannot leave; I need you here with me.” She lets out a little sigh and looks me in the eye before she speaks again.

  “I think God kept you alive for me. He knew if he took you away I would never be able to breathe again. After losing Mom and Leila, I could never imagine losing you. You’re the greatest part of me. Even if you feel you are not whole, you are. You’re alive and you’re breathing. That’s got to be worth something.” A tear runs down her cheek as she looks at me and my breathing hitches. I am being selfish. I am alive while four of my brothers were laid to rest. Their families have that burden to bear, while I just have to carry the thought of being half of what I once was.

  “You’re right Mary-Beth. I am glad to still be breathing but it doesn’t mean it’s going to get easier. How am I supposed to go on knowing it should have been me? It could have been me.” I look down at the sheets and twist my hands into them so I don’t have to look into her face. I know what’s in her eyes; pity mixed with agony and I want neither of those emotions when I look at her.

  She huffs and walks over to her bag and then into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. I wait until I hear the water running and lift my blanket slowly to look at the bandages on my now non-existent legs. I let the air leave my lungs in a loud groan, thinking of what the future holds.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  I let out a loud groan as the two nurses’ help me from the bed to the wheelchair. “Man, you’re going to be walking in no time with the physical therapist you got. Blalock is the best in the profession around here,” Kurt says as he wheels me down to the front of the hospital.

  Mary-Beth is standing beside her red Honda Accord and smiling. “You finally get to come home.” I laugh softly and reach my hands into the car. I put on
e hand on the console and one on the dashboard just like they taught me to do in therapy in the hospital.

  Kurt holds the wheelchair as I pull myself into the seat. I guess that’s what I get for making fun of Lieutenant Dan in Forrest Gump. Now I’m the real life version of him. “Thanks for everything Kurt,” I say and salute him before he shuts the door. Mary-Beth slides into the car and her shorts ride up her already exposed thighs. “Baby, you’re trying to kill me,” I say with a grin and she laughs.

  “No, I am trying to keep you alive, thank you,” she replies and starts driving to the house. We pull up to the house, which is a simple townhouse covered in brick along with four others in the complex. There is a white picket fence for Maggie, my golden Labrador, in the back. Man how I have missed her! Mary-Beth gets the wheelchair out of the trunk and brings it over to my door.

  “Thanks,” I grunt out as I position my hands to move myself from the car to the chair. I will be so glad when I don’t have to worry about relying on someone else to help me.

  Mary-Beth stops at the front door and walks around me. “Wait right here Jameson. I’m gonna go put Maggie in the back yard so she doesn’t jump all over you before you can get situated.” She starts to walk in but I stop her.

  “I want to see Maggie now, please.” I smile and push my chair into the threshold and laugh when Maggie jumps into my lap like she weighs all of ten pounds. We wrestle a bit and she jumps around licking all over my face. Well at least one of my girls was excited to see me. It wasn’t that Mary-Beth wasn’t excited; I was torn and mangled when she first saw me. I guess that deserves a pass for not being enthusiastic.

  “She’s really been missing you the last few years, but a lot more since you came back for a week before your deployment. She did a lot of moping. I suppose we owe Tanner, the kid next door, for spending time with her.. He likes to play ball with Maggie. I think the kids at school bully him and she seems to be therapeutic for him.” Mary-Beth smiles and pushes me into the living room and walks back into the kitchen.

  Maggie jumps down and starts pawing at me to rub her head, so I rub the top of her head and scratch her ear like I did when she was a puppy. I can’t believe how big Maggie is getting. She has grown up into a big golden Labrador and she has one ear that flops and one that sticks up in a funny way. Her long hair is all over the house, but it’s totally worth it. It’s amazing how a dog will never forget a person who cared for it. Well I’m sure they won’t forget the person who abuses them either.

  “Here baby.” I turn to see a beer sitting in front of my face. Thank the good Lord for this woman, she knows me so well. I haven’t had a drink in six very long months. I take a sip and moan my approval.

  “I was gonna see if you wanted to go to Hooter’s tonight. Mason and Luke wanted to see you, but if you’re not up for it we can stay in and I’ll order some pizza.” She smiles and I meet her green eyes.

  “I think I better wait a few more days before I try to do the social thing. Hooters isn’t really the place for me to go, not like this.” I point to the chair and Mary-Beth’s smile disappears.

  “And why not?” Uh oh, bitchy woman is out again. “Mary-Beth, I’m in a damn wheel chair and it’s always so packed in there. I wouldn’t be able to get around,” I say and she puts her hand on her hip.

  “Jameson, they have to be able to accommodate you. It’s against the law not to.” Here goes momma bear Mary-Beth. It’s something I have always loved about her and she never lets people get picked on. She has tried to be superwoman to everyone when we were younger. Well, except to Luke’s sister Sam. It was like they had a competition or something. Speaking of Sam, I need to check on her. I haven’t spoken to her since the night I left for Afghanistan.

  “You’re right Mary-Beth, but I’d rather not go for a few more weeks please.” I pet Maggie’s head again and then turn on the flat screen to watch some LSU football. Don’t judge me. Les Miles puts on a nail biter and it’s not always easy to see my Tigers play where I’ve been.

  “Okay, I’ll just go order us some pizza then.” With that she walks out of the room, and for once I actually feel like a man again. Pissed off woman? Check. Dog by my side? Check. Beer in my hand? Check. Step one on my road to normalcy is complete.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  I sit on the couch with Mary-Beth and Maggie on both sides of me. Funny how they can come and go as they want, but I have to move from one seated place to another. I eat my pizza and groan; hospital food sucks compared to this. I grab Mary-Beth’s hand and drink a sip of my beer. She squeezes my hand and lays her head down in my lap as I watch the game. “It’s nice to have you back Jameson.” She sighs and I smile.

  “It’s good to be back. I have missed being all domesticated.” I let out a light chuckle and she slaps my thigh.

  “Not funny. I know you feel like you’re not enough anymore, but baby you’ll always be enough for me.” She locks our fingers and turns her head to look up at me.

  “I know Mary-Beth. It’s just hard to explain.” I put the beer down and run my fingers through her hair. I watch as she closes her almond shaped green eyes. This is my Mary-Beth; the one I took to the field behind old man Rayborn’s barn in town. She’s the reason why I spent hours with Luke catching fireflies in mason jars. I wanted to light up the blanket where Mary-Beth and I made love the first time. I remember this look of bliss on her face after that, and now I remember why I survived that bomb. She needed me, and dammit I was going to be everything she needed. Even if I was only half of the man I used to be.

  Wheeling myself into the office to be fitted for my prosthetics, I get this feeling of anxiety that has become a permanent fixture in my life. Just like two nights ago, the first time in two years I tried to make love to Mary Beth. It was it not a blast in a glass like I expected. A man with no legs is not the best to try to have sex with. I mean honestly, how can I be when I can only sit in this wheelchair or move to the bed?

  Mary-Beth walks in wearing her little silk night gown and it took my breath away. I can see her nipples pebbled under the silk of the nightgown and a shaky groan is pulled from my lips. I clenched the sheets of the bed, wanting so badly to walk over to her and take her like I had in previous escapades. I groan in frustration as she walks to the bed.

  “Jameson, you don’t need to be frustrated baby. We will get through this.” She smiles at me, her brown hair in waves over one of her shoulders. I lick my lips as I see the tiny purple strap of her nightgown slide down her slender shoulder. I look at her with hunger in my eyes and for the first time since we have been back together, I am actually turned on. I want to sink into her heat and make her scream my name. “Mary Beth, get your sexy little ass over here right now,” I say huskily, and her eyes widen taking me in. I see her eyes look over me from the tip of my head to the erection pushing against my boxer briefs, all the way down to the nub of a leg. I see the flash of pity in her eyes, but I try to ignore it as she sidles over to me on the bed. I grab her hips when she is close enough and smirk at the sound my movements pull out of her. I haven’t heard that whimper in two long fucking years.

  “Jameson, are you sure about this?” she asks a little breathless. I answer by pulling her up to straddle me, pinning my lips to hers and wrapping my fingers in the silk of her mousey brown hair.

  I revel in the feel of her on top of me again, but I can’t help but feel a pang of remorse that I cannot please her like I used to. I try to focus on the here and now. Instead, my mind flickers back to the times where I would push her up against the door with her arms and legs wrapped tightly around me while my hips pistoned my cock into her smooth, intoxicating heat.

  Thinking of this is all it takes and down he goes. Mary-Beth looks at me with a glare and sighs. “I knew you weren’t ready for this Jameson! Now you have me all worked up and you’re not even in the mood.” She huffs and slides off me leaving the room and me sitting there to think about the clusterfuck that just happened. Way to ruin a moment J, way to ruin it. I slide a hand through my hair and sigh as I roll onto my side and try to be grateful that I am still here.