Redeemed Complete: A Military Stepbrother Romance (25 page)

It took me a long time to learn that. In the meantime I just avoided him as much as possible.

I rested my hand on the doorknob to Harrison’s room, and debated going inside. I turned the knob just to see if it was locked, and was surprised to find it unlocked. Harrison must have left it that way; that wasn’t like him. Privacy was usually so important to them.

I don’t know what possessed me to turn the knob all the way and push his door open, but I couldn’t stop myself. The door fell open silently, throwing the light from the hallway into Harrison’s dark room.

Before I stepped inside, I felt around the wall with my hand till I found a light switch and flicked it on. The light was low, mood lighting, the kind of light you’d use when you brought a girl back to your room. I shook my head, not sure whether to laugh or sigh in dismay. Typical Harrison, why did I ever expect him to change?

Harrison’s room looked like it was in the state of transition. He still had posters up from bands he used to listen to back in high school, but there were boxes around as well. Boxes with their lids open, old memorabilia and things from his past flowing out from them. It looked like he was in the process of putting one life away and setting up another.

I wondered how long he’d spend in Summitville. He had finished his first stretch with the military, but I don’t think I had heard him talk about what his plans were going forward. I was sure he would have discussed them with our parents, if he knew what he was going to do. The new Harrison didn’t seem to keep people in the dark too long. He seemed more open with his feelings and his intentions. And I didn’t have a problem with that at all.

I stepped into his room, careful at first, as if an alarm would go off at any moment and I would be hit with a rock or a heavy book swinging like a pendulum. I tensed up, ready to duck at a moments notice. Thankfully, no attack ever came.

I stood in the center of his room and turned around slowly, taking it all in, not sure if I’d ever be in here again. It was a strange thing to be in someone’s room when they weren’t around. Until that moment I didn’t quite appreciate how important having a private space for oneself really was. I mean, I could get mad at someone for coming into my room unannounced like the rest of them, but I never gave a thought to anyone entering while I wasn’t there.

It was almost a violation of sorts, a way to see inside someone without their permission.

Harrison didn’t have any photos on the wall, except one. It was a picture of him climbing all around his father. They looked so happy together, Harrison upside down with his arms wrapped tightly around his father’s waste, his legs held high in the air and steadied against his father’s head. The photo was taken at an amusement park; it was a Ferris wheel in the background.

Other than that, and the posters, the room was entirely impersonal, like a hotel room. That wasn’t too surprising, since Harrison hadn’t lived here full time in four years, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that Harrison had treated his room and this house like a hotel the entire time he lived here too.

Despite the fact that no one was home, and then no one would disturb me, I didn’t want to spend too much time here alone. Not in this room. Not with Harrison’s smell, and his presence lingering so strongly all around me.

But there wasn’t much to do by myself and the rest of the house. Sure, I could watch TV, or put on a movie, or read a book, but none of those things really appealed to me. Just then, as I stood in the doorway, trying to figure out what to do next, my stomach started rumbling. I guess that sandwich was not big enough, and the amount of, physical exertion, Harrison and I had engaged in afterward, made me hungry again quickly.

First stop was downstairs to the kitchen, to raid the fridge of leftovers. The party last night had been well attended, but there was still tons of extra food left over. Our parents were very good at making sure there was always something left over. I made myself a small sandwich, and scooped up some of the leftover salad into a bowl.

I turned on the TV in the living room, just to have something to occupy my mind a little bit while I ate. The food from last night was very good, but I could barely tasted. The movie on TV was one of my favorites, but I couldn’t really pay attention. All I could think about was Harrison in the police station. I hadn’t actually been to the Summitville police station since I was in elementary school, when we took a tour of it when we studied civic institutions.

I remember the officer towering above me, showing me the insides of some Summitville’s jail cells. I remember asking him if this was really a jail cell, if this was really where criminals stayed. It was so cold and so stark. Just a cement bench and a small combination sink and toilet. I couldn’t believe anyone could live there even for a night.

And now Harrison was there, only as an adult this time. My only experience with the police came from old crime shows, so I imagined that right now they were sweating him pretty hard. Maybe running the good cop/bad cop routine. The older cop who had arrested him seemed like the good cop, and after Harrison twisted the younger guys wrist, I could see him volunteering to play the bad cop.

I kept hoping I would hear a car pull up, and footsteps come out and into the house. I wanted Harrison to throw the door open and loudly proclaim his return, and then immediately take me into his arms and kissed me for hours. I wanted him to tell me that nothing was wrong, that it was all a big mistake, and that he was free, free to let go of the past and free to finally get started creating something new.

The door stayed closed, the footsteps remained unheard, and no car pulled up outside the house.

I ate so slowly, then my sandwich had gotten cold by the time I finished the last few bytes. I stared at the movie flickering across the TV, following the familiar scenes without getting anything new from it.I just kept turning over and over in my mind Harrison being so close yet so far from me, just when we were finally starting to open up to each other. Physically and otherwise.

I felt the lingering effects of his fingertips brushing across my stomach and breasts, remembered how my back had arched when pressing myself closer into him. I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the couch, dreaming in place of his rough muscles all around me, keeping me warm and safe and pressing me even further inwards.

By the time I opened my eyes the movie was over, and another one had begun. It was a romantic comedy, one I didn’t know as well as the one before. I watched it also, nothing better to do, trying to find a way to get Harrison off my mind, and not succeeding in the slightest.

I finally got up from the couch well after midnight, and made one last round of the house, turning off all the extra lights, and turning on the holiday lights outside. Our house lit up like a Christmas tree, but I didn’t feel any joy from it.

After I made my way upstairs, I stared at Harrison’s door for a long moment before entering my room.

I didn’t sleep well, angry and fitful that my sheets and blankets held Harrison’s lingering smell more strongly than I would’ve liked with him not around. I woke up several times in the middle of the night, and just stared at the ceiling, seeing how familiar it was, and wondering what kind of ceiling Harrison was staring up at at that very moment.

When I thought about it, though, I figured by now, with his military service, Harrison had slept in some pretty sticky situations already. I might get worked up about him spending a night in jail, but I bet it didn’t even make his list of top 10 worst places to sleep.Might even be more comfortable than his bunk at basic training.

I wondered what that kind of training and that kind of service did somebody. Anyone can endure a small amount of discomfort for a couple days, but when you go for years through that kind of stress, seeing combat, seeing all that death and destruction, it must do something to you. No wonder Harrison seemed so different now that he was back.

It was strange, but I thought that being in the military had somehow made Harrison a less violent and more controlled person. I got the sense from him that now he knew the destructive power that he wielded, both physically and otherwise, and was in a much better position to control himself, control his temper, and control how he treated other people.

I wondered how long it had taken him to learn those lessons in the service. On the one hand, I hope those lessons weren’t too difficult, but at the same time, a small part of me wanted him to pay for all the consternation and unhappiness he had caused me and our parents in the past.

I couldn’t escape it. I was mad at Harrison. Sure, he was different now, sure he was sexy and strong and gorgeous and nice and he made me feel wonderful things when he was around, but that couldn’t just erase all that we’ve been through before.

I turned this over and over in my mind until I finally fell asleep. When the sky brightened the next day, under heavy clouds and more snow, my eyes fluttered open, and I rolled around in bed trying to grasp few moments of extra sleep, to no avail.

Even more like a zombie in last night I shuffled around the house, making coffee, and turning on the heat before I froze to death. I longed for the warm blankets of my bed, but new that I wouldn’t find any more rest there today.

I turned on the news and watched the anchors drone on about bad things happening around the world while I drank my coffee and eight a croissant.

I couldn’t do this any longer. Harrison should never have been arrested. All he had done was try to defend me from a guy, a drunk guy, who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Yeah, maybe I had let him have a little too much too soon, but that was no excuse. What excuse had done was wrong, and Harrison was right to step in and save me.

But knowing Harrison, he wouldn’t tell them the whole story. He wouldn’t explain himself. Not to the police, not after all of his interactions with them over the years. He might be a different person now, but I had a good feeling that Harrison’s healthy disregard for law enforcement was strong as ever.

No, Harrison wouldn’t tell them anything, even to clear his name. He would sit in silence, maybe answer with a snarky remark, and dig himself an even deeper hole. And the police, good cop or no, would only be too happy to hand him a shovel. That’s what happened when you had a file that thick with the local police.

I had no idea what the police would do in response. I mean, from television I knew they had ways of trying to get people to talk, but this wasn’t so serious as all that, Was it? They weren’t in a put the screws to them or anything, were they?

I was getting in over my head, too many thoughts swirling around and nothing making any more sense. The only thing I knew, was that Harrison wouldn’t explain everything. He certainly wouldn’t tell them why he was following me, but even more close to the point than that, he wouldn’t tell them why he and Steve fought, and why Steve ended up in a mess next to his truck.

If Harrison wouldn’t explain himself, then I would be the one to explain to the police what happened. As soon as the thought occurred to me, I set up and turned off the television. I looked up at the clock, and saw that it was almost 10 in the morning.

I hurried upstairs, and took a shower as quickly as I could. After getting ready, I put on layers of warm clothing and made my way out of the house.

Destination: Summitville police station. If Harrison wouldn’t help himself, I would help him out this time. I owed him that much from what he had saved me from two nights earlier.

Plus, and I never thought I’d hear myself say or think this, I was actually starting to like him.

A lot.

Shudder.

Chapter 17 - The Station

 
I shivered as I stepped out the front door into the cold Sunday morning. The snow was still coming down, catching itself on my coat and scarf, and holding their for a few seconds before melting. If I stayed out like this for very long the little heat I was generating would soon drench me in formerly frozen snow.

I hurried over to my car, brushing the snow off the windshield with my gloved hand, and unlocking the door. Sitting inside it was no warmer than outside, given that the car had been out in the cold for almost 2 days.

When the engine turned over, I flicked on the windshield wipers, and they strained against the weight of the snow still left on the windshield. Once the heater started up in full blast and the snow began to melt outside, I turned on the lights and pulled out into the street.

Summitville was a sleepy town on the most busy of days, so a Sunday morning was even more empty. I spotted only a few people huddled in their warm overcoats, scarves, and hats, as they trudged their way through the thickening snow. Luckily, a truck had come by in the middle of the night and salted the roads, leaving them relatively free of snow. Still, I kept alert and focused on the road, not wanting to get into an accident even a little more than usual.

The main part of town held only a few city buildings like the fire station and police station, as well as the public school, library, a convenience store, and an old historic building or to. There were more people around here, most stopping in front of the convenience store to buy some last-minute things for the holidays. The library wasn’t open yet.

I pulled into the police station’s small parking lot and parked, the only car not owned by the police.I sat in the car for a couple minutes, gathering my thoughts, getting my story together, and working up the courage to get out. Not just to see the police, but to face the cold again.

I knew that trying to prepare for something like the cold, and the police, would make either of them worse, than just getting up and going after them. But at the same time, it felt like that extra couple minutes of preparation would come in handy.

I was wrong about that, at least with regards to the cold. Opening the door through a blast of frozen air at my face, and I very nearly closed the door again to take refuge in the warm cabin of the car. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stay here forever; I had work to do, and Harrison needed the help of someone with a clearer mind, and more appreciation for the work the police did keeping people safe.