Author’s Note:  Pixelberry own’s all the main characters but Cheyenne (she is mine!). This series will involve an Army Vet, PTSD, possible discussion of battle scenes at a later point. There’s a lot of language issues in this story. The M/C of this story is technically an O/C for the actual TRR series. All chapters will have the lyrics to a Miranda Lambert song that inspired me for each Chapter, I do not own these songs. Also, I took some creative liberties using Coyote Ugly, and a couple of those characters as well. Again, I don’t own those either.

Chapter 1 : Scars

Scars by Miranda Lambert

Some are deep, some are not
Some never hurt at all, some hurt a lot
Some are there from our mistakes
Some are all that’s left to show of the choices that we’ve made

Even the ones too small to notice,
are there to remind us who we are
Even if the world could look inside us
They might miss the blemish on our hearts
These scars

I’ve got mine, you’ve got yours
I’ve lived long enough to know not to hide them any more
‘Cause we’ve had time, and time can heal
If they could change the way we look,
they can change the way we feel

I understand as well as you do
Sometimes a touch can go too far
Love was never meant to be that easy
And some don’t just disappear in the dark
These scars

Pain that I remember, is the pain that makes me stronger
I’ve had to look at life that way
I’ve learned to rise above it, to keep from going under
Well I take it step by step, day by day

I’m not ashamed of what you see,
’cause every single scar has become a part of me
And all I know, is here and now,
yesterday’s gone, but we made it through somehow

Looking back I’m glad I took my chances,
’cause they were worth at least enough to leave a mark
Baby I’m not sure where we’re going,
but it means a lot to know just where we’ll start
With these scars

Some are deep, some are not
Some never hurt at all, some hurt a lot…

Bombs were dropping all around them, explosions ringing in her ears, the concussion knocking her to her back onto the floor with a hard thud. Gasping for the air that had been forcibly wrenched from her lungs. ‘Focus Bishop, you’ll be in a tight spot at some point, don’t you panic. Get your bearings, and Focus. You come back to me Chy.’ His last words he whispered into her ears before she boarded that plane with her brothers…

“FUCK,” Cheyenne gasped as Daniel’s foot came around and caught her right rib cage. She hit the mat and grabbed her side. Still after a year, and a tattoo, that scar was sensitive.

“Bishop, you ok?” Daniel gave her a sympathetic look, “didn’t mean to catch your ribs, but you left yourself open.”

“Yeah, I’m great,” Cheyenne replies through clenched teeth. But she really wasn’t. That spot was tender, and it was all because of that damn dream again last night, or rather this morning.

“Bishop, for fuck sakes, is this about your rib or HIM?”

She glares back at Daniel, “RIBS, not one, and partly there Sarge, but don’t you dare bring that shit up. I’ll see you tonight.”

Daniel knew he fucked up as soon as he said it, but being called Sarge was rough, “Wait! Tonight?”

“Yeah, after I close up the Pub, I’ll be helping the new girl close for Lil.” She rolls her eyes, grabs her bag and walks back to her apartment, their apartment. An open industrial loft space they chose together. Thankfully, Daniel’s wife Mellie had all her/ their furniture sold, and pictures boxed up  before she came back, now the living room space was her dance floor, and her bedroom completely rearranged. No signs of HIM anywhere, except in the box in her closet, and a photo on the bathroom mirror.

Several hours later, Cheyenne is out back of the Pub, a small dive bar she was a bartender at. It had been a steady evening, but per the norm, it dropped off about half an hour ago when the clubs started to pick up. The last server had just left, an hour till close, an hour until the next bar, to try and make some extra cash, help Lil out, have a little fun, and maybe forget. She throws the bag into the garbage as her manager steps out, “You got a bachelor party, good luck.”

“Fuck,” Cheyenne pulls her phone out and shoots Daniel a quick message to let Lil know that she’ll be there as soon as she could, but that she had a bachelor party to deal with.  

“Chy, I understand why you joined the reserves, and that you have ‘orders,’ but I feel helpless. I can’t protect you over there.” His big chocolate eyes were pooling up, his hands both tangled in her hair, foreheads pressed together. He was trying to memorize those crazy green eyes, the smell of her. Coconut, lavender, and a touch of rose, her tan skin, the speckling of freckles over her nose and cheeks, the fullness of her peach colored lips. “Please don’t leave me baby.”

“Cheyenne, seriously, get in here, I already sat them.”
She shook her head, “coming!”

Sitting at the booth directly from her bar top were three men, one had an olive complexion, dark hair, kind of like a Greek Play Boy. The one in the middle, younger, more tan in complexion lighter hair, more golden brown. But the third one had his back towards her, broad shoulders, shaggy brown hair, blue jean shirt, her heart started to race.  ‘It can’t be him, not after all these years.’ She took a deep breath, then greated the table, not daring to look at the face of the third man.

“Hey guys, welcome to the Pub! I’m,” Cheyenne had to think fast ‘shit what if it is him,’ she quickly replied “Bailey! What can I a getcha?” She took a deep breath, his face was behind the menu, ‘good!’she thought.

“Ah! There you are, a bottle of your best champagne!” Playboy announced.

From behind the menu she heard, “Forget that crap, just bring us whiskey, and lots of it.” His voice was low, a bit of gravel to it, ‘oh shit, oh shit, don’t panic Bishop.’

The younger one piped in a bit to energetically, “Steaks for the table!” ‘He’s a peppy one.’

“How about a filet mignon, medium rare, and prepared in a bearnaise sauce?” ‘Ugh, playboy here is gonna be a problem.’

Cheyenne felt a pair of eyes on her, but she dared not look to her right, instead, she kept her focus on the man attempting to order. “ The closest thing to a steak we have is the deluxe burger.” She thought for a moment, and anticipating the man’s next question, “and darlin’, if you’re looking for fancy wines, this ain’t your establishment. We got a house red, comes in white to.” Cheyenne really wanted them to hurry and order, she had shit to do and she was afraid to look at the man beside her, thankful her uniform covered all her tattoos. But her accent came out with her annoyance.

The man on her right chuckled, “We’ll be fine with a bottle of whiskey, four glasses, oh, and four of those deluxe burgers!”

“Four?” Cheyenne dared not look at him, instead looked at the peppy one. He pointed behind her with a goofy smile on his face. Chy turned to her left slowly, still not looking at the other man. ‘Whoa, and wow.’ A beautiful golden blonde, blue eyed, Thor wanna be, dressed in business casual stood towering behind her. Something about his face was familiar.

“Sorry I’m late. Thank you for your patience, Miss?” ‘Oh my God what a smile.’

“Uh, Bailey!”

“Charmed to make your acquaintance, Bailey!”

“The pleasure is mine!” She said smiling, “I’ll go put this in and grab those drinks.” Distracted, she turned to grab the menus, and it happened. HIS chocolate eyes connected with her electric green ones, fingers touching and sparks running from those fingertips all the way to her toes. Cheyenne gasped, “Walker?!?”

“Bishop?!?” Drake Walker was staring face to face with the only woman he had ever loved, and it truthfully pissed him off.

Cheyenne jerked the menus away and hurried to the register in the kitchen. She would normally go behind the bar to ring it in, but she needed as much space as possible in those moments. She hurried and put the burgers in so the manager could make them before cleaning the grill.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck. What the hell Walker. Six god damn years, and now, tonight. Oh and it’s a bachelors party, I wonder if it’s his? I don’t give a shit. Focus, focus. I’ll focus on cleaning, and shutting this place down. 45 minutes in close quarters. I can do this. This is easier than basic. I got this.  HOOAH Bishop! Cowgirl the fuck up.’ Cheyenne mentally prepared as she filled four glasses with water and balances a drink tray, stopping behind the bar. She grabbed a pitcher of Ice, four tumblers, and then looked at the whiskey. She glanced back at Drake, eyes locked on her, she smirked, and grabbed the Johnnie Walker.

She took another deep breath, plastered on a fake smile and walked back to HIM. He was whispering to the blonde that had arrived last.

She handed out the glasses, placed the ice in the center, smirked and handed Drake the bottle. “Nothing but Walker for a Walker.” And hurried back to the kitchen. 15 minutes in, she ran the burgers and a pitcher of water back out to the table.

“Going by your first name now, Bishop?” His tone was rough, a little bitter maybe?

“Figured coming home to an empty apartment meant a fresh start. A lot changed.” Cheyenne glares back at him. “Guys dig in, I’ll be back and forth stocking the bar.” She turned and went to the bar. She heard them talking amongst themselves, but kept her head down and worked.

Time at least passed quickly, and if the guys left soon she could still make it to the next gig by 1. She had started counting down the cash drawer when she heard the blonde behind her. She turned and kept her eyes on his blue ones, not daring to look over at HIM. It clicked, ‘this guy is freaking Liam.’

He placed the check and a credit card on the counter and smiled. “I think we’re about to head out. I just wanted to say thank you Miss Bai…Chy…um,” Liam was suddenly confused as to what to call the girl he had heard so much about.

Cheyenne grabbed the card and turned to the register to close the check, “Having trouble you’re Majesty?” She smirked a bit. “Do you want a Miss Bishop, Cheyenne, or Specialist Bishop? I’d stick with Cheyenne, her personality is friendlier.” She turned back and winked.

“Specialist? I didn’t realize you had risen to such ranks. Honorable indeed, um, Cheyenne,” Liam treaded lightly before going further. He had heard Drake’s drunken tales of their, passionate, for lack of better words, relationship. “If you don’t have any other plans tonight, I thought maybe you’d like to join us? Maxwell was wanting to go to this club Kismet? I think you two could talk.”

Cheyenne spun around with his card and receipt, laying them at his hands with her blue pen. “Listen Liam, can I call you Liam, or do I need to say Prince?”

“Liam is perfect Cheyenne.”
Flashing a very charming smile on his face.

“It’s a Friday night in The Big Apple! Rent is expensive, savings run out when your not royalty, and I have to go close another bar. I don’t see y’all waiting your pretty little asses off for me tonight.”

“Another bar? It’s 1am?”

“Yeah, it is. And Coyote Ugly is open till 4, meaning I’m not turning in until about 6. If you want to follow me there, he’s not going to like it.” Cheyenne pointed at Drake as the other three were walking out the door. “But given that I don’t see Bastian, means you have limited access security wise. But if you want to open this can of worms, then I can make a call as I change. Make some quick arrangements for your personal security and an upfront seat. Hell, I’ll go ahead and set it up, and if you’re outside in 15, ok! I’m not holding my breath Prince Charming.”

“I’ll see you shortly.” Liam was determined to make Drake go through with this.