Jillian smirked. His attempt at humor was borderline pathetic, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“Where did you and Jackson move here from?”
“The East Coast,” she answered almost before he finished asking the question.
“The East Coast, huh? Why not just say North America?”
She laughed. “New York.”
“Is that where you’re originally from?”
“Yes.”
“And what brought you to Omaha?” AJ continued as he stirred the oatmeal.
“We’ve just always dreamed of living in a more mature community but everything out east is too expensive.”
He shook his head. “I’m serious. Do your parents live in New York?”
“They died.”
AJ grimaced. “I’m sorry.”
Jillian shrugged, casting her gaze out the window. “Me too.”
“It’s a little odd that at your age you decided to relocate with your brother. Were neither of you in a serious relationship?”
“Jackson doesn’t know what a serious relationship is.”
“And you?”
Jillian’s brow set with firm lines. “You’ve met me … been with me, what do you think?”
“I think you ran out of submissives and had to move because of your reputation.”
She laughed, even though he wasn’t smiling. “Bingo!”
“How did your parents die?”
Jillian’s face drained of all color as she cleared her throat. “Car accident.”
“Jillian … I’m—”
She shook her head. “It happens. People die every day. What about you? Are you originally from here?”
AJ placed a bowl of oatmeal, maple syrup, spices, and milk in front of her. “No, I was born in Portland, but my father was in the service so we were never in one place for all that long. My father is retired now and he and my mother live in Portland again. Actually, Dodge was in the service with my father and he and Lilith were neighbors for a while until Dodge transferred a few years before he retired and moved to Omaha to be closer to their daughter.”
“Really? Funny, Dodge never mentioned that to me. Then again, he has a way of talking about a whole bunch of absolutely nothing.”
“They’re good people.”
“The best. This looks great. You’re quite the cook.”
“Oatmeal and water doesn’t qualify me as ‘quite the cook.’”
“Yeah, well you haven’t seen me cook.”
“Did your mom not cook much?”
“She was an amazing cook.” Jillian grabbed her spoon and stared at it for a moment. “Do you want to talk about last night?”
The popping sizzle of bacon AJ tossed on the griddle bought him a few extra moments of time while he gathered the courage to answer her. “Sure. You start.”
Jillian stirred her oatmeal. “It was good sex … I mean, it’s been well over six months so my standards may have slipped a bit, but nonetheless, it was decent.”
“Decent. Nice word choice.”
She smirked.
“You like to inflict pain.” He stared at the bacon.
“No.”
“No?” AJ looked over with a wide-eyed incredulous expression.
“I like to make a statement.”
“That says?”
“I’m not weak.”
AJ nodded as he set the bacon on a paper towel. “Were you abused?”
“No. Were you?”
He flinched. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because I’ve made you bleed more than once, yet here I am sitting in your kitchen, eating breakfast. Is it the PTSD?”
“Who said I have PTSD?”
“Cage.”
AJ sighed. “Doctors are full of shit. It’s some goddamn forgone conclusion that any problem a soldier has after they return home is fucking PTSD. So if that’s what you think too, then just leave.”
There it was, the monster that resided in his head. He could never predict what would trigger it. Sometimes AJ felt as if he was on the outside looking in. He recognized the figure, even the voice, but the words belonged to someone else and they wouldn’t be silenced.
Jillian pushed the rest of her oatmeal away. “I have to shower anyway.”
“Cock tease,” AJ grumbled as the anger spread like poison though his veins.
“What did you just say?” Jillian turned.
He felt the burning heat and tumultuous chaos of rage building inside. Jillian needed to leave, yet AJ needed an outlet. He could never explain the most excruciating pain was always the personality that hijacked his brain without warning.
“Go fuck somebody else today. I’m not in the mood.” He looked up at her, his mind willing her to just leave, but the monster growling out his words beckoned her to stay and take every insult like an emotional punching bag.
Her jaw clenched. “Don’t push me, AJ.”
“Or what?” he challenged.
“Goodbye.” She walked toward the door.
“You’re all talk.” AJ couldn’t keep the words from coming out. It was like two personalities duking it out in his head. His body and everyone in its wake were nothing more than collateral damage.
Before he had a chance to think past his last breath, he was gasping for his next while he buckled over in pain. Like a quick flash of light, he saw her face, then grabbed his nose and his world went black.
An incessant sting to one cheek and then the next, over and over as a familiar voice droned on, brought him back into the light.