Free Truth Avenged (Green Division Series Book 1) by Ashley Monahan

eyes.  She would not cry, she would not cry.  “I, I—” The ability to form a complete thought eluded her.  “I’m sorry.”  His staples were a reminder of everything that happened, all of which she could repress, but not at that moment.  Not at the sight of his ghastly wound.  She retreated inside.
    “ Chance?”  He peered in through the doorway, but she’d gone into the living room out of sight.
    She dropped onto the couch, head in to hands, and closed her eyes.  She hadn’t broken down in front of anyone and didn’t want him of all people to see her at her worst, again.  She quelled the tears.  She’d occupied her mind with the obsession of the plane, drowning out all memories of the shooting until she was behind closed doors with nothing else to occupy her.
    “ Chance—” He entered without invitation and peered in the living room.  She wiped her eyes before the tears could run down her cheek. 
    “ I ah, I wanted to change my shoes, my feet hurt.”  Really, that was the best she could think of?   She rolled her eyes in disgust for her lameness.  He would see through that lie.  He took a seat next to her, leaving a comfortable amount of space between them.
    “ I didn’t mean to upset you.”  The professional line dissolved more and more.
    “ You have that because of me.  I’m sorry.”  She spoke of the staples.
    “ No, I have it because of the piece of shit who did that to you. You do know that none of this—the shooting, my little scratch—none of it is your fault.  You talk as though you are responsible.  Stop apologizing for things you have no reason, or responsibility to apologize for.”  His words were firm. 
    She clasped her hands together in her lap and expelled a deep breath.  “You should go.”  Before she broke down completely.  Once he left she could compose herself and drown out the nightmare.  The feeling of the barrel of the gun on the back of her head flashed through her memory even though she tried to keep it at bay. 
    He didn ’t move.  Tuck knew she wasn’t holding back tears because her side hurt.  She was in full blown defense mode.
    “ Do you want to talk?”
    “ No.”  She rose to her feet, walked back to the kitchen, and opened the door.  He followed her.  “Please leave.  Thank you again, but please go.”
    Tuck was torn between trying to console her and leaving as she demanded.  He didn ’t know her, but knew enough.  She was a tough case.  Strong, independent, and unwilling to lose her composure in front of him.  But underneath her exterior, she was an end stage game of Jenga, on the verge of collapse.
    She leaned her head against the corner of the door.  “ Tuck.”  Her voice a mere whisper.  “I asked you to leave.”  She refused to look at him.  He stepped closer, no more than a foot away.
    “ Something I said triggered you to make you this upset.  You need to talk to someone—your family, a friend, Paul.”  Ugh, Paul.
    She walked outside and stood in the crisp dusk air.  Trigger .  Not the best term to use Tuck thought in hindsight.  She wrapped her arms around her center.   
    “ Your job is over warden.”  He walked beside her. “Talking isn’t going to change what happened.  It’s not going to ward off the nightmares.” 
    She hesitated knowi ng she'd already said too much.
    “ You don’t understand.”  Leave .  She couldn’t hide her basket-case-edness much longer.
    “ You shouldn’t be alone, not with everything that’s happened.  Why did your family leave so soon?”
    “ I asked them to.  I can’t stand being hovered over and treated like a cripple.  I’m able to take care of myself.  Just like you didn’t need to waste your afternoon hiking to rescue me.  That’s the kind of shit I’m talking about.  People worrying when they shouldn’t.  I don’t want them to worry about me.”
    “ The people who love you are going to worry when you put yourself in danger.