Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
S loan got vanilla ice cream. He got fudge ripple. He got cherries and whipped cream and hot fudge. No nuts. And two kinds of beer.
Okay, he might be a little worried about meeting Lance’s housemates. He’d met the one in the wheelchair, whose name he couldn’t remember for sure, much to his chagrin. And he’d seen Brick. The other guy was a mystery.
But Lance had been so casual. So he needed to bring that energy and not dork it up.
Still, he had an invitation, and he was going.
To be honest, the only one he was really worried about was the guy that had severe burns, whose name he couldn’t remember. Because at least with Lance’s scars, he couldn’t tell that he was looking at them. Because Lance was blind, which was kind of handy for that particular shocked first moment.
And also they were kind of hot in a weird sort of way. It made Lance seem like a survivor.
Sloan couldn’t wait for the chance to touch them. That would make them real. Of course, there were all sorts of other things he wanted to touch too, but he knew that most of those were real already.
He wanted to see Lance’s leg too, which was probably sick and weird, but he just wanted to put eyes on it, because once he knew, then he would be able to process it, deal with it, and accept it.
Because no matter how ugly it was or how tore up it was, he’d handle it.
Whatever he was imagining had to be worse than the reality.
But the guy with the burns, Sloan was going to have to not see them and not seem like he wasn’t staring.
Yeah, he was totally screwed on this whole don’t-be-a-dork thing.
He pulled up to the house, which he had to admit was cute, well-kept, and welcoming.
There was a wheelchair ramp in the front and an extra-wide door that had been put in, which were solid and practical, but there were pink and red roses planted along the rocking chair-lined front porch, as well as a huge pecan tree in the front.
The yard was fenced for the dogs, and he could see a grill and a huge outdoor table with heavy chairs all around it.
It looked like a house, not like a hospital.
Thank God for people like the guys at the Rocking W for making a place like this for their wounded heroes.
He parked along the front of the house, gathered his food, the beer, and his courage, and headed up the walk.
He could do this.
He knocked on the door, and it was the Brick guy who answered, holding out his good hand to take the bag of ice cream. “Hey, man. Brick. Good to actually meet you.”
“Sloan. Nice to finally talk with you too.”
“Come on in.” Brick led the way into the house, and seconds later he heard the click clack of Abby’s nails on the floor as she came to him, wagging madly.
No harness, so he knelt down and rubbed her ears and her neck. She was such a friendly girl when she wasn’t working.
Not that she sucked when she was. She was just focused.
Lance was sitting in the front room with the two other guys, and Brick waved him toward them. “I’ll put this stuff away.”
“Thanks. Hey, Lance.” He managed not to pop out a “babe”.
“Hey, you. Come sit and meet the guys.”
“Thanks.” He glanced at the TV, but it was running some movie he’d never even heard of, so he focused on Lance and his introductions.
“Who wants a beer?” Brick asked. “Oh, and we ordered pizza, Sloan. Lance said you like supreme.”
“He’s right.” Sloan grinned, because Lance was giving everyone a smug smile.
“How long have you two known each other?” Chris, the one in the wheelchair asked once they’d all settled in with a beer and were chatting.
“A while. We were in the same unit.”
“Yeah? You managed not to get blown up.”
Sloan’s gut tightened, and his scalp prickled, a cold sweat popping out. “I fared better, I guess. I was a little ways farther back.”
“Sloan has had his challenges, guys.” Lance didn’t snap, but he did sort of shut that line of thought down. He could feel the others’ gazes on him, but he watched Lance, wanting to touch him. Let him know he was right there, and he appreciated the thought.
He rubbed Abby’s ears instead, because she had put her head on his leg.
Brick noticed, raising his gaze to Sloan’s and nodding almost imperceptibly. He thought Brick got it. That he had his scars too, just on the inside. Mostly. Lance still didn’t know about the scars on his damn leg yet…
They didn’t inhibit his mobility enough to keep him out of his job, but the burns had been bad.
“Hey, you want another drink, Sloan?” Lance asked. “Walk to the kitchen. I think I want to switch to iced tea.”
“Sure.” He hopped up, letting Lance come to him and take his arm.
Lance waited until they got to the kitchen, then stopped, a hand coming up to land on his chest. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s cool.”
“No panic?”
Sloan chuckled. “A little. First that I was going to get here and be a derp. And then that I was going to barf my beer right back up.”
“No foaming at the mouth, man. That’s bad form.”
He hooted. “Tell me about it.”
“You got this. Stanley, you want another beer?”
“Please.” The voice that answered was deep and creaking like an old gate. That sounded painful.
Stanley had been devastated. Half of the man’s face looked like it had been fucking melted and then patched back together with a trowel. It was tough as hell not to stare, but he also didn’t want anybody to think he was avoiding the man. “God, this is hard,” he admitted in a whisper.
Lance nodded as if he got it, one hundred percent. “Stanley’s new. You’re the first person that we’ve invited over. I trust you.”
His eyes went wide. “No pressure.”
“You’re a good guy; you’ll be fine.”
God, he hoped so. He had Lance’s trust. He wasn’t going to lose it.
They managed to get two iced teas and a beer wrangled, and they headed back out to the front room. He handed Stanley the beer with a nod. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” Stanley met his gaze, those eyes a bright, clear green. “I know what it looks like…”
“It looks sort of like you melted. I’m proud that you’re out here. I don’t think I would be.” It was a stupid thing to say, maybe, but it was the truth. So he said it. “What are we watching?”
“The Hallmark Channel.”
Sloan blinked at Brick. “I’m sorry—what?”
Dan, the house mother, nodded to him, grinning wide. “It’s the perfect thing. No explosions. No fights. Easy enough to follow for those of us who can’t see or hear very well. When we’re all together this is simple.”
“You have to meet people where they are, right man?” Chris winked at him. “Everybody’s gotta meet where they are.”
“Rock on. Somebody catch me up so that I know what I’m dealing with here.” When in Rome and all, right?
It turned out it was a cute, silly little murder mystery with this lady who was like a professional dog walker or something?
By the end, they were all laughing as they guessed who did it.
It surprised him not at all that Lance was the one who got the bad guy right.
By the time they were done with the movie, the pizza was there, and they were all a little easier in their skins.
Sloan was going to have to get the Hallmark Channel because he could watch this at night when he couldn’t sleep and not have to worry about explosions or gunfire waking him up. He loved it.
Lance was at ease with these guys, and Sloan got it. Got why the Rocking W folks were doing these house rentals. The camaraderie was real, and no one had to worry that someone would be wigged out by what they looked like.
There was way more laughter than he’d expected, and Sloan realized how weird it was to be among civilians all the time. Even for him.
“Do you all think it ever gets easier?” he asked. “Out on the economy, I mean.”
Dan nodded to him. “It does. It takes a long time though. I wasn’t in long—six years, and I’ve been out for ten.
I have to say it feels normal now. But I work with military folks all the time.
Lots of Army. Some Marines. Had a couple of sailors, a few airmen, so I’m surrounded. But yeah, it does get easier.”
“So do the dreams.” Brick stared at him, dead on. “So do the dreams.”
Sloan glanced at Lance. Surely Lance hadn’t said anything. That wasn’t for public consumption.
Brick shook his head. “Nobody said anything, man. I do know that you were behind Lance here. And I do know that you lost people, and you saw shit.” Brick gave him a shit-eating grin. “Lance here, now. He can’t say that.”
“Oh, you are a fucker,” Lance shot back, those poor eyes rolling like dice. “You know, I can see a little bit on the edges. But I don’t remember what happened. I remember a flash and that’s it. Then I remember waking up into hell.”
“I remember it all,” Stanley croaked. “I swear to God, I remember every second. I just want to not remember.”
God, that broke Sloan’s heart. Also made him a little sick to his stomach.
“Yeah, that’s not how that works.” Dan’s voice and expression were a practiced mixture of determination, stubbornness, and sadness. “My job is to help you all get to a place where you can… Cope isn’t the right word.”
Brick tilted his head, raising his prosthetic hand. “Not have panic attacks on the street? ”
Chris’s laughter almost sounded real. “Not scream at the postman because he knocked on the door and startled you, and you fell out of your chair?”
“Be brave enough to go to the barber’s without anyone—them or me screaming?” Stanley added, and that grin was honest.
Lance nodded, reaching down to love on Abby, fingers curling in her ruff. “Don’t forget to not fall down in the middle of the road. All those things.”
“All those things.” Dan inhaled deep, held it a second, then let it go. “Whatever y’all need.”
That was a decent son of a bitch.
Sloan found himself nodding along. And he also needed to think about doing some volunteer work in his downtime.
He could see him working with guys like Stanley and Chris.
Lance’s case might be too specialized for a civilian like him unless it was Lance himself, but he could do the kinds of things Brick did, if not Dan.
Meet the guys for coffee. Or for that haircut. Normalize them out in the world.
It was a worthy cause, and he would make some strides in his own right if he did it, he thought.
Lance’s foot nudged his, and he glanced up, finding Lance seeming to stare through him. It had to be tough as shit to want to see something so badly and not be able to do it.
“Let me know when you want ice cream,” he told Lance.
“Sure. Let’s go get it out to soften, huh?”
He grinned, because Lance kept wanting to be alone with him, which was too cool. This was turning out to be a damn good night.
“Thanks for being cool about the movie,” Lance said, feeling his way to a cabinet to pull out bowls.
“Are you kidding me? I’m subscribing. I love that I could put that channel on all night and not have something weird wake me up.” He hauled out the ice cream to set it on the counter.
“Yeah. It’s wild, huh? We all laugh about it. We used to watch horror movies and action shit, but now we know what it really looks and sounds like.” Lance sighed. “So it’s all about the feel-good.”
“I can understand that.” He turned, leaning against the counter. “Thanks for this, Lance. It’s been good. And that was some amazing damn pizza.”
“Luigi’s is the best.”
“The veg still had the tiniest bit of crunch. It was awesome.”
“I thought you’d like it.”
Sloan lowered his voice. “You remembered.”
“Of course I did.”
Abby woofed, and Lance reached into a glass jar to get her a cookie.
“You two know each other so well already,” he said.
“I know.” Lance chuckled. “They give you a speech when you take on a Seeing Eye dog, you know? Well… lots of them. But they tell you about how many years you’ll get with them, and that they have to retire.”
“Oh, that’s not depressing.” Damn.
“I know, but it’s good to think about. She’s my best friend, and I won’t lose her when she retires, but I will eventually. And I need to be grateful for her every day.”
That was fucking deep, and Sloan grabbed Lance’s hand when Lance held one out to him. “And you want me to get an emotional support dog? Knowing how I am with animals?”
“Yes.” Lance squeezed his fingers. “It will be good for you.”
“Lance—”
“What? It’s true.” Lance let go when Dan came into the kitchen .
“Whoops. Am I interrupting? I just wanted to get the ice cream going before Stanley pooped out.”
“Sure. Should I make sundaes?” Sloan asked. “I brought everything but nuts.”
“Oh, good man. No one needs to have an EpiPen for supper.”
“Exactly. I’ll scoop if you want to dollop.”
“I got bowls,” Lance put in.
“Sounds great. Thanks, guys.” Dan chattered, but it wasn’t awkward. It was friendly. He wasn’t here to try to make out with Lance.
Sloan was here to meet his friends.
He could check that off. And if he got supreme pizza and an ice cream sundae out of it?
That was just a bonus.