Bittersweet Melody

By Belinda Boring

"They say there's a consequence to everything. Each choice and action made can either make or break you--in my case, it's left me with a gaping hole that I fill every day with guilt, shame, and regret. I should've saved him. I could've. But I didn't. Sometimes late at night when my demons haunt me, I wish I could go back. Back to when I was that naive, punk kid who thought the world was full of rainbows and butterflies. Back to where my soul didn't feel so strained and broken. But I can't. I have to live with my failures. And it doesn't matter how hard I run, there's no escaping my guilt."

Cooper Hensley is the perfect front man for the Damaged Souls. After returning from his time as a Marine, all he wants is to bury himself into the rock and roll lifestyle with music, alcohol, and one night stands. Chasing sweet oblivion to numb his pain, nothing can rattle his carefully guarded heart . . . that is until Caylee Sawyer comes looking for the man she believes a hero. What she finds instead is someone broken, someone who needs to forgive himself and move on, someone who affects her so completely, she can't walk away. But can she convince him to lower his guard long enough for her to claim his heart? And when he does, will she be prepared for the consequences?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Belinda Boring
• Release date: Oct 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310978517

Belinda Boring

A homesick Aussie living amongst the cactus and mountains of Arizona, Belinda Boring is a self proclaimed addict of romance and all things swoon worthy. It wasn't long before she began writing, pouring her imagination and creativity into the stories she dreams. Whether urban fantasy, paranormal romance or romance in general, Belinda strives to share great plots with heart and characters that you can't help but connect with. Of course, she wouldn't be Belinda without adding heroes she hopes will curl your toes. Surrounded by a supportive cast of family, friends and the man she gives her heart and soul to, Belinda is living the good life. Happy reading!

Book preview

Prologue

Cooper

Combat is like the ever-changing tide. You know it’s coming, but you can never tell what kind of impact it’ll have until after it happens.

There’s a consequence to everything—the key is to somehow be ready for it.

Having been trained in all things technical, I could recite the different procedures, tactical maneuvers, and protocol in my sleep. I could gun down the enemy with precision and accuracy.

In the three and a half years since I first enlisted, I serve five tours, each one executed with textbook perfection.

I knew who I was—Sergeant Cooper Hensley of the U.S. Marine Corps. I was serving my country with honor by performing my patriotic duty.

It’s almost comical how, in a split second, it can all change.

Be tested.

Be undermined.

But it didn’t matter how many times I reminded myself of that. It didn’t change the outcome. It was meant to be a routine patrol—it should’ve been.

Like I said, combat’s like the tide, and sometimes the price paid is too high.

Chapter One

Cooper

Every night, the nightmare was the same. Like a vice grip around my heart, the emotions threatened to choke me, filling me with an all-consuming anguish that sent me teetering over an abyss of guilt. Even though two years had passed since that tragic day in Afghanistan, I relived it in my dreams.

There was more I could’ve done. Should’ve done.

Owen had a family—a wife. He had a future. He had meaning. And in a split second, it was all stripped away. If I could’ve gone back in time, I would’ve done something different. I would’ve taken his place. Protected him more.

He had so much to live for. Too damn young. We were all too young for the horrors we’d faced.

That was something I’d learned quickly—the innocent often got caught in the crossfire.

****

We’d been through the small, rural village before, never encountering anything that resembled resistance or suspicious movement. We were each confident in finding nothing out of the ordinary, and that simple assurance filtered through the group as we quietly bantered back and forth. The villagers had always been friendly, their small children usually running out of dilapidated homes and buildings to wave and offer us smiles. They gave us no trouble and we did likewise.

Something was different that day, however. There was an eerie feel in the air as I looked about the deserted streets. Clutching my M16, the safety still on, I slowed my pace and scanned the area for any sign of danger. Nothing obvious jumped out, but there was no denying the way the back of my neck seemed to tingle with awareness.

You thinking the same thing, Hensley?

Glancing over at Sawyer, I nodded. It’s too quiet.

I swear it feels like we’re being watched. What about you, Scott? Sawyer questioned.

The four of us walked through one of the side streets, our orders to observe and report. When Scott nodded his agreement, the fluttering of curtains caught my eye as someone cautiously peeked between the hanging material.

Damn. Not good.

Tightening the grip on my weapon, I pushed down the flare of nerves that surged through me and cast a sidelong glance at Sawyer. He’d caught the movement, too.

Pushing the button on the mic at my throat, I kept my focus trained on the window where I’d seen the brief motion. Sergeant, we’ve got a situation here. The streets are empty and civilians are hiding in their homes.

Intel states there’s no updated reports of insurgent activity. Proceed with caution, Corporal.

Did you hear that? I mouthed, my three squad brothers nodding they’d also heard the instructions. Be on guard.

Travis held my gaze, and I didn’t need to ask what he was thinking. His expression matched the others. The time for bantering back and forth was over.

Walking in formation, our concentration was razor sharp as we readied ourselves for whatever was brewing. It was unnatural—too damn still for this not to be some kind of ambush. Even the background noise of birds and animals was muted, like they also sensed danger was approaching and were secreted away. It was as if a shroud of silence lay over the village. My boots crunched over the road, steady and firm. It was unnerving—the void of children playing and laughing and the general hustle and bustle of villagers heightened my awareness.

Focus, Cooper. Find your center and remember your training.

An overwhelming prickling sensation was the only warning before the sound of gunfire echoed. We knew it was coming, expected something, and adrenaline began pumping through my body as each member of the team immediately dropped to their knees, weapons ready.

Contact. We have contact left!

I swiveled to look in that direction, scanning the rooftops and windows for any sign of the hidden gunman. Questions fired through my mind as I recognized how imperative it was to reveal the threat promptly. Was there one or more? How quickly could we disperse the danger? Did I have a clear shot?

Sergeant, shooter at eleven o’clock.

I have one at eight o’clock.

Advise how to proceed, Sergeant, I radioed in, my heart thundering in my chest. One quick glance reassured me that each of my squad was unharmed, also scoping out his surroundings.

We may have been strangers when we came together six months ago for this recon tour, but we were a band of brothers now.

There was nothing I wouldn’t do to keep them safe. When the orders came in that our time together had been extended, we hadn’t complained. We worked well together—like a well-oiled machine.

Squad status, Sergeant Miller barked back.

All accounted for, I replied, rechecking to make sure. We’re about thirty-five yards down the street, cover is minimum. Crouching down by the trunk of a small tree, the others were making the best of what they’d scattered to—building doorways and a beat-up vehicle.

Lock and load.

It was the order we were waiting for, and with a steady hand, I began loading my weapon, and then flipped the safety off. The rules of engagement and using deadly force had been drilled into me—into each recruit—from the very beginning. No matter the situation, the only time we could retaliate was when the enemy gave us no other choice but to use our weaponry.

With this new order, we were now on high alert—authorized to kill on sight.

You okay, Sawyer? I checked, worried by how slowly he was moving. Even though the gunfire had momentarily paused, another rule was to make sure the team was ready for the next order. From my vantage point, Scott and Travis were adjusting their weight so they could act quickly. Sawyer?

His head turned toward me, a pained look in his eyes as he struggled to respond, his mouth forming words but nothing coming out.

The realization hit like a freight train, slamming into me hard as dread settled in the pit of my stomach.

A ricochet bullet—the shot you never saw coming.

Judging the distance between us and scouring the street, my brain was already trying to estimate how quickly I could reach him. Just a few yards. A few small yards and I could cover us both as I bolted from the tree’s slight protection, grateful for the armor-plated vest keeping my body securely covered.

One step. Two steps. Three steps. Each step removed any doubts about Sawyer being injured. The proof was undeniable. I reached for my mic to radio in the update.

Coop, he whispered with labored breath, his hand covering his neck as bright red blood dripped between his fingers. Watch out.

There was no time to turn and fire at the threat. A scorching fire blazed through my body, the bullet’s impact propelling me forward. The silence was decimated once again by an infusion of explosions, the ambush coming from all around us.

Staggering forward, I dropped to the ground, determined to crawl if needed.

Just a little more.

Regardless of the distracting pain, I would take down the bastards attacking us.

A blinding agony sizzled through my thigh, all but robbing me of the ability to think as I struggled to remain coherent. There was no way in hell I would die on this street—me or Sawyer.

Contact, Sergeant. Contact! My earpiece sparked to life as Travis and Scott radioed in. Hensley’s hit!

Dragging myself next to Sawyer, I didn’t know what was louder—the bullets whizzing through the air or the sound of my racing heart in my ears. As my vision started narrowing, I shook my head in an attempt to clear it.

Not now. Focus. Duty first. Protect. Stop the threat, I inwardly shouted, demanding myself to push past the pain.

A body toppled off the opposite rooftop, a faint scream gurgling from the insurgent as he fell to his death.

One target eliminated, Travis commented.

I’m hit, Sergeant. Sawyer, too, I added through clenched teeth, the strain from focusing taking its toll. My heart thudded in my chest, blood pounding as it seeped from my leg. I refused to acknowledge the gaping wound and the crippling agony that robbed my breath. There would be time for weakness later. Blackness rushed at me as my vision swam and left a blurry haze around the edges.

I’d trained myself to remain calm under pressure, to never panic and give in to distracting emotions, but there was no holding it back as unconsciousness beckoned.

Stay the fuck awake! I ordered myself, attempting to lift my gun and failing miserably. Protect your team!

This wasn’t part of the plan we all had talked about late at night. Each of us had hopes and dreams for our futures, things we wanted to do and accomplish. I wasn’t the same guy who had enlisted fresh out of high school, but I knew I wanted more from life—more than war, fighting, and death.

For the first time I could remember, my body refused to obey as thoughts flew through my mind.

I was just forty-five days short—my last tour before going home.

I didn’t want to die in country.

I didn’t want Sawyer, Travis, or Scott dying, either.

If I could only raise my gun one last time and eliminate the threat.

But things didn’t always work out the way we wanted them to. Barely registering the cease-fire and the orders being barked out over my earpiece, I finally toppled to the side as my eyes drooped shut. The last thing I saw were the lifeless blue eyes of Sawyer—an image that would forever haunt me.

It wasn’t meant to be like this. It was just a routine patrol.

Unable to hold on any longer, I let out one last, long sigh before everything went dark.

****

It was that time in the show again. Sweat trailed down the center of my back as the stage lights darkened, leaving a solitary spotlight on Marty, the band’s guitarist, and me. We’d had a great turnout tonight and the crowd simmered down, sensing the end was approaching. Just one more song—one last, bittersweet melody—and we could continue on with the traditional late night celebrations.

After yesterday’s nightmare, my emotions were still a little rough around the edges, and all I wanted to do was silence the memories with alcohol before burying myself into the nearest willing female. It’s what made this lifestyle perfect—the loudness of the music and the hype that surrounded it supported the adamant stance I’d taken since returning from Afghanistan.

If I didn’t feel, I couldn’t bleed.

Simple.

Hell, there were days I didn’t know how I kept breathing. Even after all this time.

Looking down at the two slightly drunk girls holding on to each other as they swayed back and forth, the decision was already made. I wasn’t opposed to sharing my attentions, and something told me they wouldn’t be, either. They were the remedy—what I needed to ease me back into the numbness I craved. A few hours with them, whiskey thrumming through my bloodstream, and I could lull myself back into blessed oblivion.

Back to where I was that naive kid who thought the world was all rainbows and damn butterflies.

Back to where I felt my soul wasn’t stained and broken.

I hope everyone enjoyed themselves tonight, I crooned softly into the microphone, winking at my choices for this evening. I tried not to laugh when the blonde turned to her brunette friend and whispered excitedly in her ear. It was beyond easy. Within minutes of the show being over, they’d both be waiting. Nodding at them and offering a sexy smile, I looked out over the packed bar. Another sold-out evening with standing room only. We’re going to slow it down now. Thanks for coming.

Releasing the microphone, I stepped away and took a swig from the tumbler of whiskey the bar had graciously provided. The sound of Marty’s guitar filled the air, hushing the crowd even further. The opening strain from Staind’s Something To Remind You always sent chills up my spine, even before I began singing the song I’d chosen as a tribute to my past.

With raw feelings still below the surface, there was no hesitation as I gripped the mic once more and closed my eyes. Each note filled me. The world faded away. It was just me up there on stage. As the words began to flow, the meaning of the tune unfolding, the same thought I had each and every time I performed this particular song appeared.

I’m sorry.

Chapter Two

Caylee

The red neon sign hanging over the window flickered briefly as I crossed the threshold into the darkened bar late Thursday night. The band had already begun, and there was no denying the high energy filling the room from the excited crowd. My roommate had been right about Damaged Souls. They were playing to a large audience, and I could immediately see why as my eye zeroed in on the guy standing center stage. Cupping the mic between his hands, the sexual tension that dripped from him was almost palpable.

Cooper.

The dark brown hair he’d styled into a faux hawk accented the sexy rock god image he had going. Nothing was contrived about his appearance, though—he didn’t have to force it. He practically exuded it as he continued to sing with a slight rasp to his voice. A faded pair of blue jeans hugged him tightly in all the right places, and his dog tags hung over his black T-shirt. Simple but deadly, judging from the way a small group of adoring women congregated at his feet.

He held the crowd in the palm of his hand, leaving them swaying back and forth to the music. There was a reason why the band was quickly rising in popularity and in such high demand. They were impressive, their talent apparent, and Cooper Hensley was a heady lure.

All around campus people talked about Damaged Souls, and standing here, witnessing it for myself, I could see why. I couldn’t keep my eyes away from the stage or my body from moving in time with the beat.

Remember why you’re here, I scolded myself, forcing my attention away from the seductive lead singer and back to the task at hand. I wasn’t prepared for the slight zing of attraction that penetrated my bruised heart. Even after all this time, I shied away from men, not wanting to surrender myself to love. That wasn’t what I was feeling as I reluctantly dragged my gaze away from Cooper.

I’d never lower my guard to feel that betraying emotion again. No, I wasn’t interested, but somehow, my body was slow to follow my heart’s lead. Shaking my head to dislodge the foolish thought of what it would be like to kiss the man I’d come to see, I blamed Rebecca for this sudden change.

Ever since we’d been paired as roommates, she’d quizzed me over my single status. It didn’t matter how many times I tried to explain my history with Cupid, she was relentless in her questions and prodding. She firmly believed that, sooner or later, I would need to enter into the dating scene again. It wasn’t until tears threatened to spill that she had backed off.

It was too soon. I wasn’t ready for anything more than simple friendship.

That was why I was here, a folded piece of paper in my pocket with the bar’s address on it. My heart may be unavailable, but I was still lonely and had questions of my own. Things I desperately wanted to know. I’d avoided this moment for too long, and even though it meant I was ripping open painful wounds, I was determined.

Wounds can’t heal when they still fester, I whispered softly.

I just needed to talk with Cooper Hensley so I could hopefully move on. That was one thing I hadn’t admitted to Rebecca the other night when she’d brought the flyer home about Damaged Souls performing. She thought I’d been ignoring all her helpful nudges. Secretly, I was beginning to agree with her. But it all started with baby steps.

Cooper Hensley would be the first of many.

From what I’d managed to learn about him, I wasn’t sure how receptive he’d be to my being here. The last time I’d seen him, grief had left a hollow, dead look in his eyes. The brief conversation we exchanged had been strained as he struggled to find the right words to share with me. I’d never known him to stutter, but standing there with blatant heartache etched across his face, we were both lost. In the end, all he could whisper was a soft sorry, his hand gently squeezing mine before letting it drop.

I should’ve stopped him, said something, anything. But my own pain was overwhelming. I watched him leave. That had been two years ago. A lot had obviously changed for us, but there was one thing I didn’t doubt. Not every war hero wanted the reminder of where they’d been and what they’d lived through. Some just wanted to be left alone with their memories.

Glancing back at the stage as Cooper launched the band into a new song, something told me he was one of those guys. It was just a hunch, but a powerful one. Almost as strong as the magnetic pull that kept drawing my attention back to him. A flutter stirred in the pit of my stomach, a sensation I hadn’t felt in a while. That flutter turned into a riot of butterflies when he scanned the room and our eyes briefly met. Electricity flared, but as quickly as it sparked, it fell away.

The petite blonde in front of me—her arms raised in the air, now held his attention, her midriff exposed as she danced on the spot. Cooper’s lips curled into a sexy smile, obviously pleased with what he saw, and as his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip briefly, there was a collective soft sigh from the nearby females—myself included. We were completely captured under his spell.

Embarrassed that I’d gotten caught up in the moment, I turned around and gestured for the bartender. Asking for some iced water, I focused instead on the facts and not the man. It didn’t matter what he looked like. My main priority was to talk to him—to get closure over Owen’s death. Nothing else.

I leaned against the bar, sipping my drink while I waited for the show to end. Studying the crowd, I watched the reactions of those who were evidently enjoying themselves. I tugged on the hem of my shirt, fidgeting with the material before smoothing out my skirt.

Breathe, Caylee, I murmured, swirling the remaining ice around in the bottom of my glass.

But none of my distraction methods worked. If it wasn’t his presence, Cooper’s voice beckoned me like a siren, demanding that my complete focus rest on him. It was as if he’d somehow stripped away my resistance and left me at his mercy. I became one with the crowd and he commanded our devotion. Giving into the inevitable, I reluctantly submitted.

Cooper Hensley had a gift. He’d rightfully earned every piece of praise fellow music lovers were spreading about him and his band.

A lone spotlight shining down on him, and I held my breath along with the crowd. I wasn’t prepared for the depth of emotion etched on his face or the sorrow that filled his voice. Goose bumps flared across my skin, my heart hurting as he closed his eyes and sung words of regret and pain. When he drew out the last note, his deep raspiness echoing over the now transfixed crowd, tears welled.

A collective exhale released once the haunting melody was over, the final strains from the guitar fading away. It was in that moment I understood why reports shared his fellow Marines had looked to him as a leader. The crowd now cheered, showing their appreciation, people already pushing forward to meet with the guy who’d entertained them. Whether it was serving his country or on a small stage, people would follow him, believe him. He’d not just given them a flawless performance, but he also had moved them.

Owen had been one of them. He’d sent letter after letter home to me, talking about how amazing his new friend was.

Owen loved Cooper as a brother, so it wasn’t a surprise when he’d reenlisted for another tour.

That fatal tour—the one that changed my universe and set it spinning.

Pushing away from the counter, I put aside the painful memories that threatened to take over and headed toward where he’d disappeared.

****

Hey, sweetheart. He smiled, his eyes twinkling as he looked me up and down. The strong waft of alcohol on his breath explained why there wasn’t the flash of recognition I’d expected. I knew I looked different from the last time he saw me at the banquet honoring Owen and his squad, but I’d hoped for something more than his flirtatious greeting. Something to make this easier.

It was hard not to get dazzled up close, suddenly self-conscious under his scrutiny. I’m sure other women were used to it, but no one had looked at me with such blatant interest in a long time. After waiting patiently for the crowd to ebb away, leaving him finally alone, I was ready to give him the small speech I’d been rehearsing.

Hello, I stammered before my voice firmed. If I can have just a moment of your time? I stuck out my hand for him to shake.

He looked at it with a soft chuckle. You can have more than a few. He stood up from the makeshift chair he’d been sitting on and moved closer, taking a mouthful of whatever was in his glass.

Time had definitely been good to him. He was a little rough around the edges, no longer the carefree young man Owen had sent photos home of, but there was no denying he held a certain kind of sex appeal. There was a reason why women had flocked backstage to beg for his attention.

Call me Cooper. Brushing his fingers through his hair, he offered a smile that did funny things to my insides. Please tell me there’s something I can do for you. He licked his lips, staring at my mouth before returning his attention back to my eyes.

It was disturbing how his words influenced me. Is there somewhere we can go? I promise not to take too much of your time. Just a few minutes.

Glancing around, he gestured toward a closed room that would afford us a little more privacy. We can use the storage room, if you’d like. I can kick the other guys out so we can be alone.

I ignored the way he made being alone with him sound seductive. I knew he was turning on the charm, flirting with me, and I fought the urge to blurt out why I was here. Something told me the second I mentioned Owen’s name, there would be no more come-hither looks, but I didn’t trust my own emotions. The last thing I wanted to do was created a public scene.

There’s no need, I added. I mean, any place would do so we can talk without interruption.

You want to talk, huh? My breath hitched as he picked up a loose strand of my hair and rubbed it gently between his fingers before releasing it. Are you sure that’s how you want to spend those moments you’re asking for? He inched closer, backing me up against the wall and placing his hand beside my head. I can think of more . . . pleasurable things, sweetheart.

This was spirally out of control fast. Placing my hands on his chest, I stopped him from leaning in, causing a spark of curiosity to cross his face. I think you misunderstand my intentions, Mr. Hensley. Switching to formalities was an intentional attempt to rein the situation back. My name is Caylee Sawyer.

Caylee? he whispered, staring at me like he’d seen a ghost. It was like night and day, the change was so swift. One minute, Cooper radiated sensuality, and now he wore a look of bewilderment and horror. He stumbled backward, glancing down at the hands he’d used to touch me as though they’d betrayed him. Without another word, he turned away, walking toward the door he’d pointed to earlier.

Wait, I only need a few minutes of your time.

He didn’t falter in his retreat. Now that he was offstage and away from the crowd, he walked with a slight limp, a