Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Truck used his keys to open his apartment door and stepped inside, Ghost right on his heels. The last week had been a whirlwind of flights, doctors, blood draws, and psychologist sessions. All he’d wanted to do was get home to his own bed and sleep for a week.
His head still throbbed, but not as badly as before.
The doctor had informed him that he was missing some time, but Truck wasn’t too worried. If he’d lost his entire memory, that would’ve been bad. But losing a few years wasn’t that big of a deal.
It was a bit odd to find out he was actually three years older than he’d thought, but having Ghost, Fletch, and the others there with him was a comfort.
He remembered everything about them. How Ghost had a thing for brunettes, Fletch was a neat freak, Coach could complete logic puzzles faster than anyone else on the team; how Hollywood could collect at least ten phone numbers from women every time they went out, that Beatle hated bugs, and how Blade got his nickname.
It was also a bit strange to learn in the hospital in Germany that the team hadn’t been about to go on R&R and pick up chicks after completing their mission, but instead they’d been in Africa on a completely different mission, three years in the future.
But he’d dealt with it then, and he could deal with it now.
Scratching the scar on his face absently, Truck looked around his apartment. Things weren’t quite where he remembered them being, but he supposed that would happen since a few years had passed.
When he’d first been told he had amnesia and was missing three years of his life, he’d laughed and accused the guys of playing a prank on him. But when not one of the men had cracked a smile, he’d realized they were serious. The doctors and the poking and prodding of his head were more proof.
The most frustrating part was that Truck knew his friends were keeping things from him.
Beatle and Blade seemed to be even closer than he remembered them being, and they were constantly whispering to each other far enough away that he couldn’t hear them.
Ghost was on the phone all the time, and he’d yet to get a good explanation as to why Hollywood hadn’t been on the mission with them.
Truck had liked the other Delta team. Trigger and his men were competent and had taken over getting the girls reunited with their families and, where necessary, out of the country when he’d been flown to Germany to be admitted to the Army hospital.
Ghost had told him the other team were also stationed at Fort Hood, and that they’d see them when they got back. It had been a long week, and Truck was more than happy to be out of the hospital and home.
“Welcome home, man,” Ghost said.
When Truck turned to him, his friend was looking around the space as if he’d never seen it before.
“You’ve been here,” Truck said. “Why are you examining it as if there might be tangos hidden behind my furniture?” Truck asked.
Ghost laughed nervously and brushed off the question. “I made arrangements for your cabinets to be filled, as well as your fridge. You should be good to go for a while.”
Truck nodded. “Thanks. Any chance the commander will ignore the doctor’s orders for me to take a month off from the team?”
Ghost shook his head. “No way in hell. You need to rest, Truck. Your brain took quite a beating. You might feel as if you’re good as new, but you can’t push it. Take the time off and be happy for it. It’s been a long time since you’ve had a vacation.”
Truck sighed. “Me being sidelined means no missions for the team, right?”
Ghost nodded. “Yeah, but that’s okay, we’re happy to stay home for a bit.”
“Why?”
Ghost’s eyes dropped from his and roamed the room.
Truck seethed inside. Even more sure his friend was hiding something from him, he wasn’t surprised when he changed the subject.
“I’ll come over tomorrow and we can watch a movie or something.”
Deciding now wasn’t the time or the place to get into it, as his head was really starting to throb, Truck asked, “Anything good come out in the last three years that I need to see?”
Ghost looked at him in surprise, then smiled. “Oh, man, it’s kinda cool that you’ll get to see movies for the first time again. Deadpool, a few new Star Wars movies, American Sniper, Hidden Figures, Logan, Sully…and of course, The Lego Movie.”
“Are you shitting me?” Truck asked.
“Yup,” Ghost said with a grin. “Only about the fucking Lego Movie. The rest are all kick-ass. I’ll see you tomorrow, Truck. Get some sleep. Call me if you need anything or if your head starts to hurt more than it is right now.”
“How do you know my head hurts?” Truck asked.
“Because we’re best friends. And because you’re squinting and tilting your head to the right.”
“Fuck. Okay, yeah, it hurts. I’m gonna take a pill or two and crash. Thanks for everything. I owe ya.”
“You owe me nothing,” Ghost returned. “You hear me? I’d crawl through hell for you, have crawled through hell, just as you’ve done for me.”
That was true. Truck was thankful once more that he hadn’t lost his memories of his teammates. He held out his hand and Ghost took it in a tight grip. When Ghost went to let go after shaking it, Truck held on.
“I know you’re keeping shit from me, and I hate it.
I get why you’re doing it. The doctor told me that suddenly finding out huge pieces of my life that I’ve lost could be detrimental—but I need you to promise me that if there’s something I really need to know, you’ll tell me.
Or if I do or say something that is out of line based on something that’s happened in the last three years, you’ll let me know. ”
Ghost sighed. “You’re missing a lot, Truck.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Truck asked.
He dropped his friend’s hand and sighed in frustration.
“One part of me wants you to just tell me all of it so I can start to deal. But the other part of me knows that I’m not ready yet.
I just…I don’t like this feeling inside that something’s wrong. That I’m missing out on something big.”
Ghost put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’re gonna remember,” he vowed. “Just the fact that you feel something missing is huge.”
“I guess.”
“It is. I heard what the doctor said. That your brain is swollen and when it heals, you’ll either remember or you won’t, but fuck that.
You’re gonna remember, Truck. That doctor doesn’t know you.
Doesn’t know what we’ve been through. You’re a fucking Delta, we aren’t like most men.
We’re smarter, quicker, stronger, and tougher.
But you don’t have to remember tonight. Get some sleep.
It’s been a long fucking week. I’ll come by tomorrow with some of the guys and we’ll hang out. ”
“I’d like to see Hollywood,” Truck said.
Ghost pressed his lips together. “I’ll see if he can get away.”
Truck wanted to ask what Hollywood needed to get away from, but he didn’t.
He knew whatever his friend was doing, it had to be important for him not to have been on the mission in Africa.
Though, Hollywood was the only one he hadn’t seen or talked to since waking up after hitting his head, and he was still half afraid his friends were lying when they’d said he was alive and well.
“Sounds like a plan. See you tomorrow.”
Ghost nodded and left. Truck locked the apartment door behind him and sighed in relief.
He was finally alone for the first time in a long-ass week.
He’d always loved being by himself. At least, he had three years ago.
But, looking around, Truck had a niggling feeling in the back of his head.
Something was there…but the second he tried to concentrate, a stabbing flash of pain shot through his skull.
Not bothering to check out what Ghost had gotten for him to eat, Truck went straight to his bedroom, swallowed two pain pills, then flopped down on his mattress.
The sheets smelled freshly washed and he reveled in the fact they were clean.
He was happy that he’d been smart enough to do laundry before he’d gone on the mission.
Truck pulled a pillow closer to him and turned over onto his side, trying to alleviate the pain in his skull. He inhaled deeply, doing his best to relax—and froze.
The pillowcase smelled like laundry soap…but there was something more there too. He couldn’t place it though.
Sitting up and ripping the pillowcase off, Truck brought the pillow to his face. He had no idea why, but the scent made him sad and aroused at the same time.
Had he brought a woman home right before the mission and had sex with her here, and now her scent lingered on his pillow? It made no sense. But the more he tried to remember why the smell triggered such a feeling of coming home, the more his head hurt.
Succumbing to the pain, Truck lay back once more, this time clutching the pillow to his chest. He buried his nose in the material and eventually fell asleep with the comforting scent surrounding him.