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  Home Again

  The Long Road Home

  Caitlyn O’Leary

  © Copyright 2021 Caitlyn O’Leary

  All rights reserved.

  All cover art and logo © Copyright 2021

  By Passionately Kind Publishing Inc.

  Cover by Cat Johnson Design

  Edited by Rebecca Hodgkins

  Content Edited by Trenda Lundin

  Cover Photo by: Wander Aguiar :: Photography

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and places portrayed in this book are entirely products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  If you find any eBooks being sold or shared illegally, please contact the author at [email protected].

  Created with Vellum

  To those who are serving and those who have served.

  Contents

  Synopsis

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Caitlyn O’Leary

  Synopsis

  Can he solve the mystery that has haunted him for years and set things right before it crumbles down around him and the woman who’s become entangled in his mess?

  Since two days before Sebastian’s eighteenth birthday, when he left home to join the Navy, he’s been running away from the pain, the confusion, the terror, and the guilt.

  But the Navy had made a man out of him, and now it was time to finally come to terms with his past, so he was going back.

  When he finds a new woman in town, unknowingly caught up in the chaos of his past, Sebastian knows time is running out. Then he finds himself entangled with Gianna on a much more personal basis and he wants time to stand still.

  Can he unravel the past and grab onto the future before it’s too late?

  1

  Sebastian Durand stood well away from the luggage carousel even though he could see his duffel bag over the heads of the men, women, and children in front of him. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to push his way to the front; standing back and watching was far more interesting.

  “Stay away. Let me do it.” A pouty little blonde-haired toddler said emphatically to her harassed father as she made her third attempt to grab her tiny Hello Kitty suitcase off the carousel.

  “Lexi, leave it, I’ll get it when it comes around next time,” the man in chinos and a polo shirt said distractedly. He turned to a boy who must have been his son who was holding an iPad and wandering toward a vending machine. “Robert, come back here,” he called out loudly.

  When the man’s back was turned, the little girl pulled herself up on the ledge of the carousel and swung one chubby leg over the stainless steel rim. She was clearly planning on chasing after her suitcase.

  Sebastian pushed his way forward. He grabbed the little girl up by her waist and snagged the Hello Kitty bag.

  “I wanna do it!” the girl shrieked.

  The man turned around and saw Sebastian setting his daughter down on the floor.

  “Give me Kitty,” she demanded as she thrust her hands on her hips. Sebastian had to stop himself from laughing.

  “What’s going on?” the man asked over his shoulder as he made a lunge for his son who was three meters in front of him.

  “That guy saved your daughter from a fall, is what’s going on,” a woman with a bad dye job said.

  The father dragged his son back to his daughter and glared at Sebastian. “You put your hands on my daughter?” he yelled.

  Sebastian took a deep breath.

  No good deed goes unpunished. Here it comes.

  Sebastian knew the type well; how many newly minted lieutenants had he had to listen to over the years, who thought they knew something when they clearly had shit for brains?

  Too many.

  He kept his expression blank as the man, about his height, stared daggers at him, holding each of his kids by their wrists as they struggled in his grip.

  “Asshole, you had no right to touch my girl.”

  “Dad, let go, you’re hurting me,” the boy said as he used his free hand to try to peel off his dad’s fingers. At this rate, the father was going to leave bruises on his kids’ wrists.

  “Somebody had to act like a parent,” some soccer-type mom piped up as she came to stand next to Sebastian. “And don’t hold onto your kids so tight.”

  “I’ll do whatever the hell I want to do, lady.”

  The little girl dropped her suitcase handle and looked up at her father. She started to whimper. “Why are you mad, Daddy?”

  “Don’t ever touch somebody’s kids,” the man growled at Sebastian. “I bet you think you’re some kind of tough guy, right?”

  “Mister, you need to get your luggage and stop manhandling your kids.” The spirited soccer mom tried to get between Sebastian and the pissed-off dad.

  “Look, bitch…”

  “Enough.” Sebastian’s voice was low and menacing as he gently moved the mom out of the way. He took a step forward and leaned into the father. “Get yourself under control,” he whispered. “Your kids are watching, don’t give them a bad memory.”

  The man twisted his head backwards and Sebastian leaned into him a little more.

  “Let go of your kids’ wrists, kneel down, hug ‘em, say you’re sorry, get your luggage, and every day of your life thank your fuckin’ stars you’ve been blessed by God for them. You get me?”

  Sebastian watched as all color leached out of the man’s face, then he gave Sebastian a nod. Sebastian stepped out of the asshole’s space and watched with narrowed eyes as the guy knelt down and did exactly what he’d told him to do. When he witnessed the hug and saw that it seemed genuine, he turned back to the carousel and snagged his duffel.

  He glanced once more at the guy and his children and saw that both of the kids were smiling. He breathed a little easier.

  As he headed toward the exit on the main concourse he heard a woman yell, “Wait up.”

  Sebastian turned and saw the petite soccer mom smiling at him, so he stopped and arched his eyebrow in question.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  “Hmmm?”

  “You did right back there.” She reached up and squeezed his bicep. “Not enough right in the world, but you did it, so thank you.” She smiled, then turned and left.

  For the first time in what felt like forever, Sebastian felt like he might get through the next few weeks.

  Sebastian arched his neck, trying to loosen his muscles. This was the
third uncomfortable chair near the third gate he’d been assigned to in the last five hours, and he didn’t know why he was bothering. He looked up at the floor-to-ceiling window in front of him and watched the rain slash sideways. Why they even tried to say the planes were just delayed was a mystery to him. Hurricane Helen was going to cancel everything here at the Atlanta airport, so they might as well just call it.

  His phone vibrated, so he pulled it out of his back pocket, hoping it might be one of his teammates. It wasn’t. It was his grandfather, one of the last people on earth he wanted to talk to, so he let the call go to voicemail. It was bad enough he had to see the bastard in the very near future; there wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to talk to him anytime beforehand. Just having the old man’s damn letter in his pocket was giving him hives.

  “Canceled?” the woman to the right of him screeched. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

  Really? She was surprised?

  Sebastian picked up his duffel and headed left. He’d already scoped out where the USO was. He probably should have headed there hours ago, but there’d been something soothing about the storm that called to him. The outer turmoil matched what he was feeling inside.

  He followed the stream of people toward the Airport Atrium. They were slow, but there was no rush. He’d probably end up sleeping on the floor at the USO, which was a hell of a lot better than where he’d slept on his last mission.

  By the time he got to the third floor, he was once again thinking about the old house in Lafourche Parish. When he got to the desk a tall, older woman with a Texas accent was talking to a woman in a combat uniform standing beside a tall man in jeans and a Broncos shirt. The man was holding the woman’s duffel and had his arm around her waist. Both of them wore wedding bands.

  “Let me see if I can get you situated with some food.”

  “No need, Blessing, this isn’t our first rodeo,” the woman said. “Pete picked me up some barbeque before dropping off the rental car.”

  The man held up a white bag with grease stains and the older woman grinned. “Well, y’all know the way back. Remember, don’t get too comfortable,” she teased the young couple.

  The Broncos fan let out a big laugh as his wife buried her face into his chest. They wandered down the hall and Blessing turned to Sebastian with a twinkle in her eye. Despite the angst he’d been feeling about going home, he couldn’t help but return her smile.

  “Hello, Blessing,” he held out his hand. “I’m Sebastian Durand.”

  She took his hand in hers. “Welcome to the Atlanta USO. Do I hear a little of the bayou in your voice?” she asked before walking behind the desk to check him in.

  Sebastian nodded. “Lafourche Parish, Louisiana. I’m on leave, heading back for a while.”

  Blessing gave a slight frown. “So that’s home?”

  “It was where I was raised,” Sebastian qualified.

  “Family there?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Some.”

  She came around from the back of the desk, put her hand on his bicep, and looked up at him. “How long has it been since you’ve been back to Louisiana?” she asked quietly.

  “Twelve years,” he admitted. “Didn’t think I’d ever go back.” Sebastian stopped short, amazed he’d admitted something like that to a stranger.

  Her eyes searched his. “You’ll be able to handle this, Sebastian. I know it.”

  Sebastian’s head shot up in shock. “I beg your pardon?”

  “God doesn’t give us more than we can handle. What’s more, it’s finally your time to go back. You’re going to find that not only will you get the answers you’ve always needed, you’re going to find joy.”

  Sebastian’s eyebrows shot up. “Uhmm.”

  Blessing’s laugh sounded like bells. “It’s okay, never mind me. I’ll just take you back and find you someplace comfortable to weather out the storm. Follow me.” She took two steps expecting him to follow her.

  “Wait, how do you know I need answers?”

  Shit, what was wrong with him? Why should he care what this woman said? But, how in the hell could she have possibly known that he was going for that very reason?

  She turned back to him, her expression holding such warmth and caring. “Sebastian, I’m not sure how I know, but I know.” Once again she reached out and squeezed his arm. “Trust. I know it’s not in your nature, but try to open yourself up to trust, okay?” She kept staring at him until he finally nodded.

  “This way,” she said as she turned toward the hallway.

  He followed her down a red, white, and blue striped hall, lost in thought until she pointed to a shelving unit. “You can set your duffel there.” Sebastian nodded and shelved his bag, then continued to follow her as they ended up in an almost empty room that had some brown leather furniture. The only one there was a scowling man with his foot in a black walking boot.

  “I’d like to introduce you two. Sebastian Durand, this is Kyle Jones who is also in the Navy.”

  Kyle started to push up from the couch and Sebastian shook his head. Kyle settled back down with a brief nod. “Blessing, how’d you know I was in the Navy?” Sebastian asked.

  Shit, does she know his middle name too?

  “I saw your name and rank on your duffel luggage tag,” she smiled. “Anyway, I’ll leave you two gentleman alone to get better acquainted. Bye, y’all.” Sebastian stared after her as he sank down on the couch across from Kyle.

  “Where you stationed?” Sebastian asked Kyle after a few minutes of silence.

  “Coronado,” Kyle answered.

  Sebastian wasn’t surprised. Kyle had the special ops feel to him.

  “You?” Kyle asked.

  “Little Creek,” Sebastian said. He waited to see if Kyle was going to ask questions since it was obvious they were both Navy SEALs, but he didn’t. Maybe Kyle was going home to a big ole’ pile of shit too. Sebastian’s lip curled up.

  “What you smiling about?” Kyle asked.

  Sebastian considered giving him a one-word answer, but a little conversation would make time go faster. “Thinking about the bullshit I’m going back to. Thinking our shitty moods match.”

  Kyle’s lips twitched. “Dude, you’re reading me wrong if you think this is a shitty mood. This is me on a good day, especially since this shit happened.” Kyle lifted his injured leg and grimaced.

  Sebastian laughed, then winced as he once again looked at Kyle’s broken ankle. He could really get to like this guy. They continued to talk. Nothing too deep; Sebastian wasn’t in the mood to unload on Kyle. It was bad enough having to go home, and he could tell that Kyle had his own reasons for keeping things to himself…still. They ended up sharing contact information before Blessing brought in more men. Before the night was over there were five of them. Five good men who ended up making Sebastian feel he was in a much better space before having to return to a place he’d vowed never to see again in his life.

  2

  Now, this is Louisiana hurricane weather, Sebastian thought with a grimace. He’d hoped that after spending the night stuck in the Atlanta airport that Hurricane Helen would have wound down a little bit more, but she was proving to be a bitch. The rain wasn’t hitting the rental SUV on the roof, it was hitting the passenger door and the wind was doing its damndest to push him off the freeway. He was debating whether or not to pull over when he saw the turnoff for Highway One. He went over a lane so he could take the exit. All in all, it wasn’t any worse than any of the sandstorms he’d experienced overseas. In fact, those sandstorms had kind of reminded him of hurricanes.

  He tried the radio one last time with no results, then pushed the car into the lowest gear possible and continued on down the highway towards the place he’d been forced to live after his mother died. Under normal circumstances, it would have taken him a half-hour to hit Larose after hopping off the Ninety, but at this rate, it would take a couple of hours. Probably for the best; this way he’d have even more time to get
in the right frame of mind. The old man’s letter had hit him like a bolt of lightning last week.

  Sebastian gripped the steering wheel even harder. Mostly it had been the same old song and dance, Grandpère busy being the wily old puppet master. But this time the old bastard had thrown in the one thing he knew that Sebastian couldn’t resist.

  Answers. Answers to questions that had been plaguing him for over twenty years.

  He might’ve been a child at the time, but Sebastian knew what he’d heard. Back then, it hadn’t made any sense, but when his mother had been killed weeks later, he’d confronted his dad and his grandfather. They’d told him he’d misunderstood their argument and he should just forget it. But he couldn’t. Not then and not now.

  After his mother’s death, he’d no longer had the respite to spend the weekdays at her house. Instead, he’d then had to spend every single day with his father, uncle, and Grandpère at the Durand family home. He’d hated it; he’d felt sad, empty, and lost. It had gotten a thousand times worse when months later, his dad’s car had ended up in the swamp.

  It took another half-hour before he got closer to the Valentine Bridge and his hands started to sweat. He didn’t need this. Sebastian wiped the perspiration off on his jeans, before clutching his steering wheel again. He’d hated crossing this bridge every fucking time since his father’s death, but to do it in a storm was a whole new dimension of hell.

  Sebastian squinted as the old lift bridge started to come into focus. Even through the pouring rain, he could make out the towers on the north side of the bridge. It’d been on a night like this that his dad’s BMW Z8 had missed the entrance to the bridge and sailed into Bayou Lafourche. They’d tried to keep Sebastian from reading the newspaper article about Sebastian Durand the Third, but the little shit Andy Beaumont had brought it into school for him to read. The words sailed over were burned into Sebastian’s brain. So were the pictures of his dad’s car being pulled out of the bayou.