8. Vance
CHAPTER 8
Vance
The vibrations of the engines rumble through my body as I sit in the cramped seat. My fingers tap an urgent rhythm on the armrest. Each beat brings me closer to Blair. I shift in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position. It's futile. My body is tense. I close my eyes and see her face. Blair. Her chestnut hair cascading down her shoulders. Those expressive eyes that always see right through me.
“Almost there, Blackhawk. Got someone waiting for you?”
“Yeah,” I manage to croak out.
The plane hits a pocket of turbulence. My thoughts turn to the long nights in the desert, the endless patrols, the weight of responsibility. Suddenly, I'm back there. The air thick with dust and gunpowder. Explosions rock the ground beneath my feet. “Cover!” I yell, my voice hoarse. The memory is vivid, real. I feel the sting of shrapnel grazing my arm. My heart pounds, adrenaline surging. I blink, and I'm on the plane again. My chest is tight, breath coming in short gasps. The flashback fades, but the tension lingers. This deployment fucked me up.
“You okay, man?”
I nod. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. In, out. Slow and steady. I focus on my happy place. Blair. Her laugh, the way her eyes crinkle when she smiles. The tension eases.
“Just ready to be home.”
I think of the men I've served with. Each memory, each shared struggle, has shaped me. Made me stronger. More resilient.
My hand moves instinctively to my chest pocket. I feel the edges of the small photo tucked inside. Blair's smile, frozen in time, a talisman that's carried me through the darkest moments.
“She's the one, isn't she?” he asks, noticing my gesture.
I pull out the photo, allowing myself a moment to drink in Blair's features. “Yeah, I'm gonna marry her.”
The words hang in the air, a vow and a promise. I trace Blair's face with my finger.
“Does she know?” he asks.
I tuck the photo away, feeling the weight of my decision. “Of course she does, dumbass.”
The plane dips, and my stomach lurches. A pressure builds in my ears as we begin our descent. I swallow hard, trying to equalize. The plane jolts as the wheels touch down, but I barely notice. My heart races, each beat a countdown to seeing Blair again. I'm so close now.
As the plane taxies to a stop, a knot forms in my stomach. Jace's face flashes in my mind - his fierce loyalty, the trust in his eyes when he'd clap me on the back. “Take care of yourself out there, brother,” he'd said before I deployed.
I swallow hard. “Shit.”
“You okay?” my seatmate asks.
How will Jace react when he finds out about Blair and I? The thought of losing my best friend twists in my gut like shrapnel.
People start shuffling, eager to deplane, but I'm frozen in place.
“Hey, good luck with your girl. And whatever's complicating things? It'll work out if it's meant to.”
I nod. “Thanks, man.”
As he moves into the aisle, I finally stand, my legs unsteady. Each step towards the exit feels like I'm moving through quicksand, excitement and fear warring within me.
But then I catch a glimpse of all the people waiting. She is out there somewhere.
I'm home. I'm finally home.
My hands move, gathering my belongings. Each motion is deliberate, driven by a singular purpose: Blair.
“Excuse me,” I mutter, squeezing past others.
My duffel bag weighs heavy on my shoulder, a physical reminder of the burden I've carried. But it's nothing compared to the weight of anticipation. I pause at the aircraft door, taking a deep breath.
“Welcome home, soldier.”
I nod, and then I step out, and the world rushes to greet me. The tarmac buzzes. Somewhere beyond this controlled chaos, Blair's waiting. My fingers twitch, already aching to touch her.
My eyes scan the crowd, heart pounding. I search for one face among hundreds. A flash of chestnut hair catches my eye. Is it...? No. False alarm. My chest tightens. What if she didn't come? What if-- Stop. She's here. She has to be.