Page 46 of The Marine's Homecoming

"Yeah." I nod and try to pull myself together. "Yeah, I'm okay. He just caught me off guard. I thought everyone had left."

"I was parked across the street waiting and watched him walk up to you." He looks toward the lot exit where Dorsey's taillights are disappearing down the block. "That asshole almost saw a side of me he'd regret provoking. He won't be doing that again."

"You don't know that," I say fearfully. Calvin Dorsey clearly doesn't take kindly to his access to my festival shipments being cut off now. It's just more proof that Luke is right and something is going on.

"Yeah, I do." He looks back at me so certain as he touches my face lightly. "Because if he does, it'll be the last time."

Looking into Luke's eyes is so calming. My heart is still pounding but it's slowing down. I know he's the reason for it too. Not just because he chased Dorsey off, but because after a night like this, I need someone I feel safe with. And if there is anyone in this town who makes me feel safe, it's Luke. Which is a complete one-eighty from the way I've felt about him for the past twelve years, but I can't deny it or fight it anymore.

"Thank you," I tell him. "For being here."

"I'm always going to be here, Hannah."

When he lets me go, I almost whimper. I don't want to feel the distance between us anymore. I hate it. When I'm with him and he's holding me, I feel like I'm anchored. Like there's no other place on this earth I'd rather be than right where I am. And when he's not with me, I feel untethered and alone, like I'm floating in an ocean by myself just waiting for life to drown me.

Luke isn't my enemy. He's the one person on this earth who lost as much as me and can understand my pain. Maybe more so than my parents do. I pushed him away and stayed mad at him for so long because I blamed him, but it was never his fault. Ijust needed to feel like someone was paying for the pain they inflicted on my family, and for Nick.

"I should go, but I want to make sure you get home safe. I figured Dorsey would be up to no good. It's why I sat out here tonight." He runs a hand through his hair and I watch his bicep flex. I almost ask him to go home with me, if for no other reason than to make sure Dorsey doesn't come to my place to harass me. But he looks tired.

"Yeah," I mumble, glancing at my car a few spaces down. It's a scary thought that I could be lying in my own bed sleeping and Dorsey could show up.

"Want me to drive you home?" Luke looks genuinely concerned. I'd almost think if I asked him, he'd sit out front of my house the whole night watching me.

But this is pathetic. I'm not a little child who needs protection. My doors have locks, and I have a phone to call 9-1-1 if something happens. I can't cling to a man for this stuff. I've been living on my own the past eight years and I can keep doing it without help.

"Uh, no, it's okay," I say, though I really want him to.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow?" Luke's hand rises to my cheek again, plucking a few hairs from my skin. I pause, hoping he will lean in to kiss me, but he doesn’t.

"Tomorrow," I repeat.

Luke waits for me to get in my car and start it. Then he watches me drive off before he starts walking to his car. The whole time, my thoughts are on Calvin Dorsey and just how far he'd have gone to force me to change my mind and let him dowhat he wants. My guess is he isn't going to stop smuggling his contraband in simply because he's lost festival access. If I'm right, Luke will have more crates on his piers tomorrow morning and every morning after that. And if we can't stop him, who knows what else Calvin Dorsey will do?

27

LUKE

It's midnight, a week before the festival, and after weeks of planning I got a call this afternoon from Colonel Harlan that we needed more substantial proof. Apparently, the military won't work with what our suspicions are. They must have hard evidence, and that's what I'm going to get them.

"So, what if he doesn't show up?" Hannah asks, popping a piece of licorice into her mouth. She sits cross-legged on my desk, watching out the window on the back side of my office that overlooks the harbor and the piers. When I told her I was staking the place out tonight, she insisted on being a part of it. So far, we've managed to keep our hands to ourselves and watch the piers.

"He'll show up. He only has a week left to do his dirty deeds before people start suspecting the traffic out here this late." I reach into the box in Hannah's hand and grab a piece of the chewy candy to eat. She's generous, having brought her own snacks and drinks while I managed to remember a cup of coffee in my large Stanley thermos and nothing else.

I chew the sticky candy and stare out over the moonlit water reminiscing. Nick and I used to do shit like this when we were teens. We'd walk out to the bluffs when he'd sleep over and sit on the rocks, talking shit and throwing stones into the surf all hours of the night. Dad always knew we were doing it, but he played dumb the next day when we were so tired we slept until one in the afternoon.

Those days seem so far away now, but the memory is so fresh. I can almost hear Nick's laughter at my stupid jokes and sense his spirit here with us, hovering over the water while Hannah and I watch for Dorsey to show up.

"You know, Nick used to talk about the crazy shit you two did down at these piers…" Hannah sounds nostalgic. I can't blame her for wanting to open up, though on a stakeout doesn’t seem to be the right time. Still, she's opening the door, and who am I to stop her? If we're ever going to move past the hurt of our past in any meaningful way, we have to be able to be open about our feelings.

We've been more relaxed around each other and more open, but with our busy schedules—her business and mine—we haven't even been on a proper date or anything. This night is the closest we've come to anything resembling a relationship.

"Yeah?" I ask, smiling though in the dark, she can't see me. "What sort of things?"

I'm not volunteering anything stupid Nick did simply for the fact that in her eyes, Nick was a superhero. To Hannah, he was perfect and did no wrong when in reality, the opposite is true. We were hellraisers, which is how he ended up dying.

Hannah sighs, and I hear her smile more than see it. "Well, he told me you used to catch seagulls and try to bury them alive." She chuckles, such a sweet, tinkling sound, it moves my heart. Her laughter is as infectious as her smile, making me want to mold myself to her and own that part of her heart that's happy and bright.

"I think he probably meanthedid that," I joke, but we both did. God, we were horrible kids.