Chapter Twenty-seven
Kael
“You need to eat.” I slid a bag of take-out burgers and fries toward Gloria. She glared at me and pushed them back.
“What good is it for your kids if you starve to death and both of their parents are fucked up?”
“Fuck you,” she growled.
The kids were at Gloria’s parents in Arizona for now, but they wouldn’t be there forever, and it was partly my responsibility to make sure their mother took care of herself while their father held on to his life.
“Please, eat something, and I’ll leave you alone,” I told her, pushing the brown bag across the small plastic hospital table again.
“I doubt that.” But she opened the top of the bag, pulled out a burger, and unwrapped it. The smell made my stomach growl. “Eat some. You ordered enough for the whole platoon. Eat.” She handed me a paper-wrapped burger and I didn’t argue.
I’d had a few protein shakes in the last few days but hadn’t had a solid meal.
“Did you see Karina yet?” Gloria asked, taking a big bite.
I shook my head. “I went to her dad’s place but she was passed out.”
“I can’t believe what I said to her.” Gloria hung her head. “I wasn’t in my right mind.”
Gloria hadn’t meant what she’d said to Karina, and she was going through hell. But Karina was so sensitive, and she valued Gloria’s friendship so much. There had been nothing but heartbreak on Karina’s already devastated face as Gloria had slapped her.
“You can apologize when you see her,” I reminded her.
She pushed her long dark hair behind her shoulders with her fingers. “That won’t undo what I said and did. It’s not her fault, or Fischer’s. It’s not one’s fault except Phillips’s and my dumbass wannabe-hero husband. You know?”
She slid her elbows across the small table and laid her head down. I hoped Karina wouldn’t take it personally, but it would have been impossible not to. Karina was probably still in shock. I would never forgive myself for failing to keep her out of that situation, and it was my fault for allowing Phillips into my place at all that day. I shouldn’t have trusted that he would have changed his perspective so quickly. Then again, I hadn’t realized Fischer would go walking into the lion’s den so soon. If it was anyone’s fault, it was mine. My head was throbbing and my eyes burned like they hadn’t been closed in days, which was true, and my chest felt like it had a hole in it as if I were the one who’d been shot.
“We can’t undo anything that happened. We have to live with it, all of it. What we did, what we didn’t do, it’s ours to bear. All we can do is try to do better from now on.”
“How philosophical.” She rolled her eyes, a fry hanging out of the corner of her mouth. “I don’t know what the future looks like anymore,” she quietly admitted. “If he will never be able to walk again, what does that even mean? For him, for our babies?”
I wish I knew the answer. Deep down I was terrified of what it meant. Mendoza was so lively, so young and full of passion. All of that being contained, him unable to move for the rest of his life, was absolutely fucking terrifying. I would carry the guilt of not being able to stop Phillips for the rest of my life. Every time I looked at Mendoza, Gloria, or their children, the weight of what had happened would push against my chest, twist my insides, and make me wish it had been me who’d been injured.
“It means life fucking sucks sometimes. It means everything is going to be even harder from now on. It means the life you knew is gone.” I couldn’t keep my honesty at bay, even if it was too harsh for the moment. Gloria wouldn’t want someone to bullshit her and tell her that everything would be fine, because it wouldn’t be.
We didn’t talk much as we both inhaled enough food for four people. I could taste the blood from my busted lip every time I took a bite. I was sure it was bruised but didn’t have the capacity to care enough to look in a mirror. A little bit of color came back to her cheeks as she finished eating. The beeping monitor made her twitch every time it went off. The physical and mental exhaustion was all-encompassing on her small frame.
“Why don’t you go home and sleep a bit? I’ll stay here in case he wakes up,” I offered, half expecting her to cuss me out.
She looked at her husband lying in the bed and then back at me. “I think I will. He’s still out, and now that I’m full, I don’t know how much longer I can keep my eyes open.”
She leaned over Mendoza’s still body and kissed his forehead, running her long fingernails over his slightly grown-out hair. He didn’t move a muscle as she left the room, whispering a thank-you to me on her way out.
When the room was silent, with only Mendoza and me and our mistakes, I began to speak to him.
“Manny, we’ve really done it now. I can’t believe you took a bullet for Fischer, you fucking idiot.” I was conflicted on whether that had been a noble or a dumbass thing to do. If Karina’s brother had been shot and paralyzed or dead, her entire world would have changed. She would have never been the same again. But Mendoza had a wife and children, a career in the Army. Just because I loved Karina didn’t mean her brother’s life held more value than those of my closest friends.
“I wish I would have stopped it, I never meant for it to get this bad. Phillips came to me saying he was going to leave them alone and not do anything stupid. But, fuck, now you’re lying in the hospital. Goddamn it, none of this is fair.”
His voice scared the shit out of me as he replied, “Life isn’t fair.”
His eyes were barely open but his mouth twitched into a small smile. I wanted to punch him for smiling at a time like this, though I wasn’t surprised. He always had a way of making a joke out of the worst possible situations.
“Do you want me to call the nurse?” I asked, not sure if that was what I was supposed to do now that he’d woken up.
“No. I don’t want to be poked and prodded right now. Where’s Gloria?”
I nodded, knowing I would want some peace, too, if I were him. “She went home to sleep. She hasn’t slept since you got here.”
He closed his eyes softly, like it took a lot of effort to keep them open. “How long has it been? Feels like a goddamn month.”
“Only two months.” I fucked with him. He cocked one eye open and shook his head back and forth.
“If I could move my arm, I would be giving you the finger. But they’ve got me so doped up right now, I can’t move shit.”
“Glad to see your personality isn’t gone.”
“Just my nerves from the waist down.” He was joking, but the reality hit me hard. I found myself blinking away tears but did my best to keep it light for his sake.
“How’s Fischer?” he asked, his voice dry and raspy.
“Better shape than you. But he’s here too. The screwdriver really did a number on him.”
“Where’s Phillips? That motherfucker.” Mendoza began to cough, and I jumped up to his side.
“I should call the nurse. At least drink some water.” I held the carafe to his chapped lips. He downed more than I’d expected him to.
“Where is Phillips? Did they lock him up?”
I didn’t know how to respond to that.
“No. They can’t find him.”
Mendoza tried to sit up but failed. The movement killed me. I had never believed in miracles or praying, but I found myself talking to the unknown, begging for all of this to be undone, for Mendoza’s life to not be this way forever.
“They can’t find him?” he repeated, refusing to accept that.
“They will. They just haven’t yet.”
I should have been surprised that the justice system and the MPs had failed us, but sure as hell wasn’t. I would chase that man to the end of the earth if they didn’t find him within the week. He could come back at any time to finish what he’d started.
“And Karina? How is she?” Mendoza inquired.
“Not sure. She’s in better shape than you, physically at least. I’m going back to her dad’s after I leave here. She’s been staying there the last two days.”
Both of us turned our attention to the door as Fischer limped in, holding his side with both of his hands.
“What the hell are you doing up?” I scolded him, moving to help him walk.
“I could hear you two from next door and wanted in on the fun.” He half smiled, and if he didn’t have a literal hole in his body, I would have elbowed him.
“You crazy fucker! Why did you do that?” Fischer sat down on the edge of Mendoza’s bed. “You could have died!”
“You almost died,” Mendoza responded simply, like they were talking about picking bread up from the fucking commissary.
“I can’t believe you,” Fischer groaned. “You crazy bastard, stepping in front of a bullet for me. An actual bullet!”
“I’d do it again.” Mendoza’s voice was clear, dead serious.
“You bastard.” Fischer leaned a little to try to hug Mendoza but winced in pain when he bent his torso. “Thank you, but you should not have done that. You have a family.”
Fischer began to cry, and Mendoza’s fingers twitched, trying to reach for him, but he couldn’t.
“I told you I had your back. I’d take a bullet for both of you, any day. My life has been over for a while now, yours are just beginning,” he whispered, growing tired from talking as soon as he woke up.
The idea that Mendoza believed his life was over already was devastating enough, and amplified the fact that so much had been taken from him, again and again. I could see the dark edges of my mind creeping in, remembering cold sleepless nights in the desert, recalling the faces of the innocent people Mendoza would never forget killing. He wasn’t to blame for what had happened in Afghanistan, it had been an accident, but that didn’t make it any better. His alcoholism spoke for itself. I pushed the shadows back, unsure how much longer I would be able to do so.
“No more bullets,” Fischer begged, wiping his wet cheeks.
In another reality, this scene would have been funny, the irony of this entire situation being so damn heavy but all of us trying to find the humor in the darkness.
“Are you still going to be able to enlist?” Mendoza asked.
“No clue.” Fischer rubbed his chin, his blue eyes full of worry.
“Let’s worry about that later. You both need to rest and recover so you can go home,” I told them.
“I don’t have a home, and no offense, I never want to go to your place again,” Fischer confessed, rightfully so.
“How’s El?” Mendoza asked Fischer.
“I don’t know, she hasn’t been here.” Fischer’s eyes met the floor.
“I’m sure it’s because she doesn’t want Phillips to come here, since he’s still running loose for now,” I reminded him.
“My sister is in bad shape too,” he added, looking back up at me.
“I’ll worry about your sister, you worry about yourself and Elodie. And you”—I gestured at Mendoza—“you worry about yourself only. Your good deeds are done for the year. Got it?”
“Got it.” He saluted me and the three of us laughed. Even in this completely fucked-up situation, wounded and unsure of what was coming next, we managed to laugh.
“You’re not supposed to be in here.” A nurse walked into the room, a look of disapproval on her round face.
Fischer turned on his charm and flashed a big flirty smile at her, and of course it worked. “I had to check on my friend. He almost died for me, the least I could do was crawl over here.”
“That’s sweet and all, but you need to get back to your bed before I get in trouble for losing my patient. And there’s someone here to see you.” The nurse checked the watch on her wrist and scanned the three of us with her gaze. “You have two minutes. I’ll tell your visitor you’ll be back then.”
“Is it a young woman with light-brown hair?” I asked the nurse, wondering if it was Karina, but hoping to god she was still in bed at their father’s house.
The nurse shook her head. “No. She says she’s his mother.”