Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
NASH
Watching Forest sleep was quickly becoming one of my favorite pastimes. He’d fallen asleep again on the couch after dinner, which he had thoroughly enjoyed, eating more than I had expected.
But he slept a lot, which both comforted me and worried me. Had he overdone it the last few weeks, and his body needed to catch up on sleep? Or was this simply an inevitable side effect of his disease?
God, it angered me how unfair life could be. If anyone should’ve gotten a diagnosis like that, it should’ve been someone like me, you know? Someone who had already lived a good life, who was past his prime, who had both the financial resources and the support network to endure it.
Though if I were honest, I would’ve waited as long as possible to tell anyone, just like Forest had. It was always easier to encourage someone else to do the right thing than yourself, wasn’t it?
Like Forest, I hated leaning on others. I was the person who supported others, not the other way around. I was far more comfortable in the role I had with Forest than being the one who needed help.
And yes, that probably spoke volumes about some deeper psychological problem, but fuck that. Denial was working well for me so far, so why change it?
I sipped from a cold Coke as I alternated between looking out the window onto the foggy beach, where gentle waves rolled in an eternal rhythm, and watching Forest, whose gentle snores almost kept pace with the surf. He was so goddamn beautiful.
I’d always thought that the expression that someone took your breath away was a metaphorical saying, an exaggeration, really. But Forest had proved me wrong. My lungs tended to seize when he smiled, just like my heart would suddenly skip a beat or my hands would get clammy.
Yup, I felt like a teenager again, though even back then, I didn’t have it this bad. How was it possible that a five-foot-seven guy had me all tied up in knots with a simple smile?
God, his expression when he came… Beautiful didn’t even begin to describe it. He’d been stunning. Magnificent. And the sheer fact that I’d been allowed to touch him…
Thank fuck I’d made up for my earlier…misstep of focusing on myself instead of on him.
He deserved better, and I sure as fuck held myself to a higher standard.
I could count on one hand the number of times a sexual encounter I’d been involved in had been this lopsided, and four of those times, it had been the deliberate choice of my partner at the time.
That had not been the case here. Sure, Forest had assured me it was fine, but it wasn’t. I’d been selfish, and that couldn’t happen again. Ever. Forest had to be the priority in every single way—and that included sex.
It had grown dark outside, and I checked my watch. Nine p.m. It looked like Forest was out for the night, which meant I had to make him more comfortable. Hell to the no was he sleeping on that couch the whole night.
I prepared the bed in the bedroom by whipping off the covers and removing all the extra pillows. Seriously, what was it with some people and their need to have fifteen decorative pillows on a bed? Where the fuck were we supposed to sleep? On top of those damn pillows?
Then I headed back to the couch, where I carefully lifted a sleeping Forest into my arms, jostling him as little as possible.
He weighed far less than he should, and I made a mental note to keep a close eye on his diet.
He couldn’t afford to lose any more weight, which would affect his muscle mass, above all.
And we needed to set him up with physical therapy.
I gently lowered him onto the bed, where I managed to remove his pants without waking him. He’d complained about cold feet before, so I left his socks on, but what about his hoodie?
I didn’t like the idea of him getting tangled up in the hood while sleeping, but that was a tough one to take off without waking him. But I had to try. Even if he did wake, he was probably tired enough that he’d fall right back asleep.
His right arm came out easily, and his limp body was easier to maneuver than I had expected. The left arm took a little more effort, as I had to lean over him, but I managed. Now all I had to do was pull the damn thing over his head, but that was easier said than done.
I lifted his head but struggled with pulling the fabric over his head with one hand. First, because I couldn’t get a good enough grip, then because I was in my own way. I switched hands and finally got the logistics down. There, that was better.
He stirred when I pulled the last bit over his head, and then he blinked sleepily. “Nash?”
If I had thought I loved how he said my name before, this was even better. All sleepy and mellow, it was little more than a whisper, yet it hit me like a lightning bolt. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”
“I don’t want to sleep the whole time…”
I could easily spot the pain and frustration behind those words. “I know, but your body needs it. The beach isn’t going anywhere, and neither am I. Sleep, sweetheart.”
His blinks grew slower. “What about you?”
“I’ll be in bed early as well.” That wasn’t a lie. I was tired too, though obviously nowhere near as tired as Forest.
“Bed. Not couch.”
I smiled. Even half-asleep, Forest managed to make himself crystal clear. Bossy little shit. “Yes, bed. Next to you.”
“Good.” His eyes remained closed now, and just when I thought he’d fallen asleep again, he mumbled, “I like you sleeping next to me.”
The smile that grew on my lips stayed there for a long time.
Something was wrong.
That sixth sense that Creek always called my Spidey sense was tickling down my back, making the hairs rise on my skin. My muscles tensed, my body coiling like a spring ready to release.
Something was off. There was danger. I slowly looked around, taking in my surroundings with practiced attention. Nothing. No hostiles, no sounds, nothing moved.
“What’s wrong, Sarge?” Bean asked, watching me with concern. The guys knew my instincts, knew that I was seldom wrong. I had no clue how or why my body and mind were so attuned to my situation, but they were.
It rarely happened that I missed anything, which should reassure me right now, but it didn’t. It only made my unease grow. Because something was wrong.
“Sarge?” Bean asked again.
“Something’s wrong, but I can’t find what.”
“Do you want me to…?”
“Stay here. I’m gonna take a quick look.”
I signaled to the rest of the platoon that they should stay put, then belly-crawled through the sandy terrain to a slightly higher vantage point. It took a while, but I’d rather take my time than rush it and get noticed.
When I reached the top, I carefully raised my head to take a quick peek. Nothing. Everything was quiet. And yet my Spidey sense was screaming at me.
I took another minute to study the area through my binoculars. Nothing. As much as I hated to admit it, maybe I was wrong this time.
With a frustrated sigh, I turned around to start the crawl back. But when I looked up, my blood froze.
My men lay on the ground, their faces distorted, their uniforms soaked with blood that now dripped onto the ground. No, no, no!
What had happened? How was this possible? I hadn’t heard anything.
I pushed myself to my feet and ran toward them. They were dead. All of them.
But when I got to Bean, he opened his eyes and looked at me, even though half his skull was missing. “You didn’t see it, Sarge. This is on you.”
And then he closed his eyes and he, too, was gone.
I made a sound, a sob, then a louder wail.
Someone shook my shoulder, calling my name, but I ignored him.
They were all dead…and it was my fault.
“Nash!”
I jerked upright, gasping for breath as reality clashed with the images in my head. Where the fuck was I? I didn’t recognize this bed, this room, this…
A soft sound next to me had me swiveling my head around, my hands already rising in defense. He was sitting on the far edge of the bed, close enough to touch me but far enough away that he could easily jump out of my reach.
“It’s me, Nash. Forest.” His voice was soft, soothing, and it immediately got through to me.
Forest.
We were…at the beach. On our honeymoon.
Jesus fuck, it had been a nightmare.
I buried my face in my hands as I willed my heart rate to come down. My skin was covered in sweat, and I shivered as a breeze hit me.
Forest stayed quiet, and I was beyond grateful for that. I needed a moment to collect myself, to get my brain to accept it had all been a dream. “Did I scare you?” I finally asked, removing my hands and looking at him.
Only then did he scoot closer, taking my hand. “A little. You were thrashing and screaming.”
He’d known enough to stay at a safe distance. Creek. “You’ve seen this before with your brother.”
Forest nodded. “He had them when he was back on leave after his first deployment. He told me never to get close to him because he could hurt me.”
“Yeah.” My voice was raw. “You know I’d never hurt you intentionally, but…” I made a helpless gesture.
“You’re not fully yourself with a nightmare like that. I know, Nash. I understand.” He hesitated, then asked gently, “Do you have them often?”
“Not anymore. I used to. It’s…” Bitter bile bubbled in my throat, and I had to swallow before I could continue. “I don’t know what triggers it.”
“Is it always the same?”
“No, but the theme is the same. They’re all…” I stopped as I realized who I was talking to. Forest was a civilian. Should I be talking about things like this with him? He wasn’t used to the brutalities of war, of combat.
“You can tell me.” His voice was soft but determined. “I’m stronger than you think.”
Did he think I considered him weak? “You’re the strongest person I know, sweetheart. But this is not about being strong. This is about not wanting to traumatize you. There’s a difference.”
“I can handle it, I promise.” He squeezed my hand, which he was still holding. “Talk to me, Nash.”