I have been combing over my recollection of our past with a fine-toothed comb for clues but thus far I’ve come up empty handed. We dated, fell in love, I enlisted, she dumped me, I left for boot camp and Rae left for college. That’s what I know and nowhere in there do I know anything about a trauma that would have spawned this kind of PTSD a full decade later. That realization leads me to believe that whatever has caused Rae so much pain happened after me, maybe in college. I swear to fucking Christ I’ll dismember whoever is to blame. Since my days in the Marine Corps ended, I have stayed on a pretty even keel. I don’t get too ruffled up about just about anything but thinking on this topic confuses me and angers me. I can’t stomach the realization that Rae is fighting demons alone, demons that hurt her. You’d have to be brain dead to not see it. I’m one hundred percent certain I’m right. Maybe because I am well versed in this subject matter of surviving trauma, maybe because I’ve always been very in tune with Rae, maybe a little of both. It doesn’t exactly matter how I know something is wrong. Right now what matters most is finding out what she’s hiding and making the right moves to help her through it. I look at Rae and I see a drowning woman. I wish she’d trust me enough to throw her a life ring. A little seed of hope burrows down and waits for the sun. If this is what’s standing between Rae and I, maybe… if she can get better, maybe she will want us back as badly as I do. At a loss for how to move forward I pick up my phone and dial momma.
“Hey sugar,” she says into the phone.
“Hey Momma.”
“You still down in Cattail?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And how’s that going?” she asks about Rae in that way moms ask things without coming out and actually asking.
“It’s been okay.”
“You don’t sound very convincing, son.”
“I know. I was wondering…”
“Mhmm,” she hums.
“And this is just between you and me but do you know of anything… traumatic that Rae went through?”
“Oh you mean like her brother being killed overseas? Or abruptly ending her relationship with you? Or seein’ you the way I saw you in the hospital?”
“You’re right. She’s been through it but I meant do you know of anything that I don’t already know about? There’s just something missing,” I speculate. Momma sighs deeply.
“Women secrets, son. Sometimes it’s for the best and sometimes it isn’t. I will tell you this much though, if Rae has something she’s hiding, her momma doesn’t know about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Pam has been my very best friend for many years. I’ve seen her at her worst and same goes for me. We had lots of long talks about our kids and I can tell you that Pam has been terribly worried about Raegan since y’all broke up. She told me Rae changed around that time and she has yet to tell her momma the details. She just kind of got hard to the world and planted herself in an industry where bein’ that way is just another Monday at the office.”
“So you think whatever changed Rae had to have taken place after me but before college?”
“That’s Pam’s best guess,” she says in a voice softened by resignation.
“And what are your thoughts?”
“Well I couldn’t begin to say what got to her if anything other than what we know happened but what I do know is Rae’s not bad, son. She’s just bad at being hurt. That’s all.”
“You’re right about that, Momma,” I nod though she can’t see me. “I better get going before my houseguest comes looking for me.”
“Love you Sylas.”
“Love you too, Momma.” I end the call and look up at my cabin from the front yard. The blinds and curtains are drawn and I can see Rae sitting at my kitchen table chattering away with Bethany, her assistant. My Rae is a puzzle but I’m determined to piece it all together even if she ends up hating me for it. She can’t live her life this way and my hunch tells me she doesn’t truly want to.
Chapter 19
Raegan
Back at Sy’s cabin, we sit down at his dining table and I put on my work hat, which would be far easier if Sylas wasn’t silently reeling me in with his heated looks and sexual tension rolling off him in waves. It would also help if I had my workbag with me but my cellphone will have to suffice. As far as being distracted by Sylas’ allure goes? There’s no help for that.
“First thing’s first. When and where is the event?”
“I got the parish community center to donate use of the rec room Next Saturday.”
“Oh boy,” I sigh. “Less than one week to dress this lady up. Okay. We can do this,” I mumble to myself, typing furiously on my cellphone. “What’s the occupancy and how many guest do you expect as of now?”
“The occupancy cap is two-hundred fifty people, so we have shut it down at that.”
“More people want to attend?”
“Well, yes but I don’t have another venue.”
“Okay. Website?”
“Uh, yeah, Buzzsaw Chartered Fishing dot org,” Sy relays, rubbing the back of his neck with a stressed expression on his face. It’s clear this nonprofit is really important to him.
“Why Buzzsaw?” I ask absently as I scroll through his website.
“It was my nickname in the Marine Corps. Broussard, Buzzsaw.” I glance up at him to see him shrug.
“Oh I just figured it’s more due to your loudmouth sounding like the actual saw versus the Cajun sir name,” I joke, hoping he will relax a little.
“Well that too,” he smirks. It takes me less than three minutes navigating his website to see it needs a facelift.
“Sorry but your site sucks.” He sighs and leans his head on the tabletop. Getting the ball rolling on propping up Sylas’s fundraiser banquet on such short notice requires my full attention as well as me issuing several IOUs as well as cashing in more.
I fire off a SOS email to my web designer source and employ them to do the job of dressing up BCF’s website. Aesthetics are half the battle. I shoot Bethany an email asking her to assist me with this project remotely on her personal time, promising to make it up to her. She responds right away with, For Mr. Hot Boxer Shorts? Anything.
Me: Thank you.
After getting the ball rolling on vamping up Sy’s event I get to my feet and round his table. Running my hands across his shoulders he sits up, leaning back in the chair. “You look like you’re stressing out over this and you shouldn’t. It’s going to be great, I promise,” I say stepping between his spread legs. I bend at the waist to take his face in my hands, enjoying the scruff on his jaw and cheeks. I kiss him, slowly like we have all the time in the world. I break away and stare deeply into his eyes as I lower myself to my knees between his parted thighs. Sy’s eyes flare wider and he settles deeper into the chair, giving me space to do exactly what I please, and what I want right now is to taste Sylas on my tongue. I free his cock from his pants and breathe in the musky male scent of him. I wrap my hand around the base of him and look up at him. Wetting my lips, I lean forward and deposit full, wet kiss on the bulbous tip of his remarkable cock.