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Saving Zane

Saving Zane

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He's fighting the silence. She's painting his world with color again.

Zane came back from the military a different man — scarred, guarded, and done with people. Then she walks into his life, all sunshine and color, and refuses to let him disappear into the dark.

He's too old for her. Too broken. But she doesn't seem to care — and that's the most dangerous thing of all.

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Heat Level?

  • 4/5 flames — spicy / very explicit open door.

HEA or Cliffhanger?

  • There is no cliffhanger, and yes, there is an HEA. You can see peeks of their story throughout the rest of the Oakside Military Heroes Series.

Content Warnings:

  • Combat Trauma, PTSD, Death of a Sibling, Funeral

Blurb

He's fighting the silence; she's painting his world with color again.

Zane
Battled, broken, and branded by war, I came to Oakside seeking refuge, not redemption.
The blast took my hearing and tossed my world into silence.
Now I’m a grizzled former Navy SEAL battling with my demons and the silence of my world, until I stumble upon Carlee.
Despite the years and experiences that separate us, she looks at me and sees a man, not a collection of scars and stories.
But with my past and her dreams of a future, I'm not convinced I can it give to her.

Carlee
Art is my refuge, my way of speaking when words fail me.
Oakside is supposed to be just another step in building my dream.
Helping Zane find his way back to himself wasn't in my plans, despite the shadows that linger in his eyes, I see the possibility of a future together.
Until I get the phone call that says I'm the sole guardian of my six year old niece.
Now I’m thrust into a life he’s made clear he doesn’t want.

Chapter 1 Look Inside

Chapter 1
Zane

Watching people's mouths move but not being able to hear a word of it is a very odd sensation. Sometimes they just try to speak louder and over pronounce their words, thinking that maybe I'll be able to read their lips but I can't.
Until a few weeks ago, I had my hearing. Then one bombing later, not only do I have scars, PTSD, but worst, my world has gone completely silent.
Though I’ve gotten some sick entertainment by watching people give up trying to get me to understand them and finally write what they have to say. I’ve got to say, this nurse is smart. She pulls out her phone and uses the text to speech before turning it around to let me read it.
Later today, they will be here to transport you to Oakside. They've got someone there that will teach you sign language. Your doctor visits and physical therapy will all be on site. Do you have any questions?
Shaking my head no seems to satisfy her. I guess handing me a pamphlet on Oakside is easier than trying to explain it to someone who can’t hear you.
The place looks interesting. Kind of like a fancy bed-and-breakfast for healing injured military personnel. I have to say the food promised to be a hell of a lot better than the barely identifiable meat substance I was given for lunch today.
As I wait for them to come in and get me, I look over the pamphlet again. When the nurse finally shows up, she insists on pushing me down in a wheelchair with all my stuff in my lap. A long time ago, I learned not to fight them on things like this. It was easier to just climb into the wheelchair and let them take me wherever we're going.
The ride over to Oakside is fairly easy, and it's nice to see something other than the walls of a hospital.
At least once I get to Oakside, they're not insisting on a wheelchair anymore. Why they were doing it the first place is a mystery, as I can’t hear, but I can see just fine.
After driving down a tree lined driveway, we arrive at the large Plantation style building, Oakside. Outside, ready to greet me is a man with a bunch of scars with a beautiful blonde by his side. Greeting me, he smiles, handing me a piece of paper.
I'm Noah and this is my wife, Lexi. We run Oakside and we'll be showing you to your room. Let us know if you need anything at any point. We've supplied your room with a whiteboard, washable markers, plenty of pads, paper, pens, and journals.
Nodding, I smile. I haven't tried to talk since losing my hearing. I figure there's no point in it. Who knows if they’ll even be able to understand me.
After they show me to my room, they aren't gone more than a minute before another couple is at my door.
This one's holding a tablet and hands it to me to read.
I'm Faith and this is Logan, my fiancé. Logan was a patient here and had lost his voice. I taught him ASL and different tricks to communicate with the outside world. That's what I am here to teach you as well. This tablet is yours. I figure it's probably easier to communicate this way than writing on a whiteboard or paper all the time. At least Logan thought so. I will give you a few days to settle in and we will start on Monday.
Once again, I gave her a nod and a small smile. This seems to appease her and they both leave the room.
At least the people here at Oakside seem pretty chipper and appear to be go-getters. Hopefully, that translates into my healing process as well.
Not that anything's really going to help. It's as if I'll miraculously be able to hear again or have my life back. Not that I have much to live for, anyway. The Navy SEALs were my whole life, and before this blast they were trying to convince me to retire at the ripe old age of thirty-nine.
Even now at thirty-five, I have no idea what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I always thought that the SEALs were my game plan. I don't have anyone in my life, just some family that I talk to occasionally. Now that I can't hear jack shit, I really have absolutely no idea what I plan to do with my life. But like my dad likes to constantly remind me, I better figure it the fuck out pretty fast.
Deciding to go for a walk, I explore the place. Lexi catches me and starts scribbling something down on a piece of paper.
The gardens outside are really beautiful. If you want to go for a walk, they're outside the front door and to the left.
I follow her directions but never make it that far. Instead, I stop in my tracks when I see the woman lying in the grass staring at Oakside with a sketch pad in her lap.
She's way too young for me, but something says even though I don't know what my future holds, somehow she's part of it.

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