Chapter 40
Deacon
That had been two days ago. Now, my stomach growled and I eyed the clock on the dash—it was nearly six and I wasn’t sure I’d had anything more than a protein bar all day.
My body ached after two grueling workouts and a six-mile run.
The recruiter’s voice repeating “highly unlikely” over and over in my mind was its own kind of workout mix, as if I could prove him wrong then and there.
I’d still hoped I’d made enough progress to rely on the waiver, that there was a chance.
Cruz would have rolled his eyes, called me a dipshit, and taken me out for a drink, reminding me of all the things I could do instead.
I didn’t even have to imagine it, because when I’d joked about getting back out with the unit right when I started PT and could barely take ten steps on my own, he’d done exactly that.
“You’re a hardheaded fucking dipshit,” he’d said, handing me a beer when I’d told him about my plan to get back to the PJs after the discharge was final. “They told you you’re never going to be back to a hundred percent. But you’re making progress. That’s a good thing.”
I’d huffed. It didn’t feel like progress. “I’m good at proving people wrong.” I’d taken a longer pull on the beer than I planned. “I can do it.”
“Even if you could,” he said, “you shouldn’t. You’re going to fuck your back up permanently, more than it already is.”
“Everyone we know is hurt somehow,” I said, taking another long pull. “That’s the job. You’re going to go until you can’t anymore.” I nodded my chin toward him. “You know I’m right.”
“You’re not.” He shook his head. “When it’s time, when I can’t do it anymore, I’m out.”
“Liar,” I said. “You love the work more than anything. It’s who you are.”
“Nah,” he said, taking a measured sip of his beer. “I love it. It’s part of who I am, but not all I am.”
I grunted and took another pull, the bottle nearly empty.
“I missed a lot at home,” he said. “I was gone during my parents’ divorce, couldn’t really be there for my sister, and then when my mom died, we were deployed.
” He looked pensive, the lines on his forehead creasing.
“Doing important work,” he added, even though I didn’t need him to.
“But I want time to be there for Willy when I’m done.
You’re my brothers, but she’s my sister, so yeah… the job isn’t the only thing I am.”
He’d looked down at his hands and then back at me with that implacable stare. “It’s not the only thing you are, either.”
Now, I swiped wet eyes with the back of my hand. I still didn’t know who else I was without the unit, and I wasn’t going back.
I stopped at a red light and glanced at my phone.
My most recent reply to Dougy asking for an update was unanswered.
I tried to reassure myself that meant nothing.
There was a time difference. He was busy with the search or the next mission.
But if it was really bad, if Cruz was gone, he’d wait.
He was a softy under all that muscle and bravado.
I let out a frustrated growl and slammed my palms onto the steering wheel as the sun dipped lower in the sky.
There was nothing from Dougy, but I had several messages from Emi.
Emi: I’m taking Cupcake for a walk. Want to come with?
Emi: Are you okay? Willow said you weren’t at her place.
Emi: I’m not in Switzerland yet. If you’re just purposefully ignoring me, I’ll hunt you down.
Emi: Please let me know you’re okay. I’m worried.
I marked the last with a thumbs-up and pulled out of the parking lot.
I was a dick for leaving Willow alone. She didn’t have anyone to turn to.
That was why I’d hugged her, why I’d pulled her into my arms. I had needed a hug, too, and that’s why I’d pulled back.
Looking at her was a reminder of the promises I was breaking, of the promises I’d already broken to the man to whom I owed my life.
I flipped my blinker to make a right turn onto a random street and past rows of small houses with neat lawns, probably originally built in the forties.
The trees lining the street filtered the dimming sunlight, and dappled shadows spread across the front seat.
I’d asked for the review anyway, despite the recruiter’s doubts, but he was right.
It was probably hopeless. I scanned the road ahead where the neighborhood gave way to a business district and people walked along streets dotted with local shops and restaurants.
I pulled into the parking lot for a strip mall with a sports bar to the right and a coffee shop to the left next to a pet supply store.
I studied the display in the pet shop window with materials for dog training.
If Cruz were here, he would spend an hour perusing and weighing out what challenges Gus was ready for.
Before I could sink into another memory that would circle back to the guilt I felt, I caught movement from the corner of my eye where one of the guys from the vets study group was standing, a backpack over his shoulder.
“Hey,” Bryce said, holding out a fist to pound when I stepped out of the truck. “My girlfriend was impressed when I came home talking about romance novels. We gotta keep you around.”
“Yeah,” I said, “maybe.” I ran a hand through my hair.
“No pressure.” He held up a hand. “Kel is great, but she doesn’t give up. Hounded me until I became a regular.”
“Yeah,” I said with a nod.
“You want to grab a drink?” He pointed between the bar and the coffee shop.
“I was gonna meet a study group from my poli-sci class, but they bailed.” He chuckled.
“I’m the oldest guy in the group by at least fifteen years,” he added.
“And damn, do I feel it at moments like this when my gut instinct is to shake my fist and curse about these irresponsible kids.”
I chuckled. I’d had that gut reaction more than once and nodded toward the bar. I wanted a beer, anyway. Driving had just made me more and more agitated.
The place wasn’t crowded, and we were able to get seats at the bar.
Bryce was a good guy to sit with. We mostly just watched the game on the TVs behind the bar.
Bryce finally spoke, his gaze still trained on the TV.
“If you tell Kelly to back off, she will,” he said.
“I don’t think she’d mind me telling you she was in a dark place when she got out, and finding other vets and having a place, well, she talks a lot about how it saved her.
” He shrugged. “She doesn’t want to see anyone else struggle, but I know not everyone wants that. Wants the group.”
I took a pull from my beer and looked intently at the screen where they were showing a replay of a questionable foul call.
My silence had nothing to do with what he’d said and everything to do with how what he said touched a nerve.
I’d enjoyed being around them at the study group.
Kelly was a badass, and Bryce was cool from what I could tell, but they didn’t know what I’d done and how I’d let down my team.
Especially with Cruz still missing during a mission I knew nothing about.
That Marine’s death was partly my fault, and my roommates, even Willow, didn’t get how heavy that burden was to carry, but Kelly and everyone else would.
Only I wasn’t sure if talking about it would make me feel better or worse.
I tapped my fingers on the bar to the beat of “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” playing in my head.
At this point, I probably couldn’t feel worse.
“Okay,” Bryce said, tapping his bottle on the bar when I’d been silent for a while. “Message received. I can take a hint. You ready for that next econ test?”
He’d given me an out, another excuse to tell someone I was fine. I tapped my hand on the bar again. I wasn’t fine, though, and I felt like a pressure valve had to be opened or I’d explode. “I was a PJ,” I said, still looking at the TV. “53rd Rescue Squadron.”
He whistled. “You’ve been in some shit, then.”
I nodded. “Something happened, and my best buddy is in trouble. I still haven’t figured out how to be okay with knowing there’s nothing I can do.
How to just be here when they’re out there doing the work.
” I tapped my fingers on the bar again, hearing the notes in my head.
“I feel useless and guilty I’m not on the mission with them, and I don’t know what to do about it.
” I hadn’t meant to say all of that, especially that last part.
I’d stopped before admitting to the other emotion, the guilt that had never really gone away.
I hardly knew this guy, and I didn’t want his reassurances or platitudes.
But he didn’t offer any. “That sucks,” he said, instead.
“Hope your friend comes through it.” We both looked toward the screen just as the people scattered at a few other tables erupted in cheers when Caitlin Clark scored at the buzzer before the half.
“I’m no one to give advice, and ignore me if you want to, but I had those moments of feeling disconnected and useless.
Still do sometimes. I finally had to find another way to be useful and meet other people I wanted to look out for.
The only way I could make myself move was knowing I had somewhere to go. ”
The game cut away from the arena to a commercial for a wings restaurant.
Bryce glanced at me. “It’s not the same, but it’s something. I met my girlfriend on a Habitat for Humanity build after I got involved there. Kind of scored a two for one there.”
“I recommend you never tell her you referred to her as a two-for-one deal,” I said, thinking about Willow and how much I didn’t want to let her go even though it was the right thing to do. I wondered if there would ever be someone like her who I’d feel like was mine.
“You’re right.” Bryce laughed. “But between her and the work and the center…well, it felt right to have people again like I did with my unit. People who…get it, who understand, at least a little. And a place you can go. It helps. I have to give Kelly credit for harassing me into getting involved.”
I nodded, still tapping on the bar. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“But don’t tell her I said that. She’s insufferable when there’s an ‘I told you so’ at play.”
Bryce looked at his phone and responded to an incoming text.
“I gotta get going,” he said, signaling for the bartender.
“But, stop by or not, and here’s my number if you ever need it.
” He signed his credit card receipt and then jotted down the ten digits on a napkin.
Underneath he wrote an email address. “And if you do want to come by or just need anything, JC and Rita are the center’s full-time staff.
They’re good and really fight for what we need.
Both Navy, but we can’t all be perfect.” He laughed at his own joke and held out a fist. “Keep your head up, man. Guilt’s a helluva drug.
” He motioned to my phone on the counter. “Hit me up if you need to.”
I wanted to ask him how he figured it out, the part about finding somewhere new to go, but I didn’t want to admit I still didn’t know.
Alone at the bar, I stared blankly at the commercials and halftime commentary on the game, too many thoughts swirling in my head.
About Cruz, about the PJs, about what I was going to do, and about Willow.
Willow’s infectious laugh and the way she sighed against my neck after I kissed her.
I felt so whole in those moments, like I really was a superhero for her.
The second half started on the TV, and I took another sip from my beer.
I reminded myself she didn’t want a superhero.
She didn’t even want a boyfriend—she wanted a fresh start, and she was going places.
I had no idea where I was going, and that made me all wrong for her.
My message to Dougy shifted from unread to read, but there was no response, and Emi had sent three heart emojis and a plea to come home since I’d left early that morning before dawn.
I had to go check on Willow before I did that.
No matter how much I’d fucked up this whole thing, I’d sworn I’d take care of her and keep an eye out for her, and leaving her alone with this news probably didn’t make everything else that had happened any better.
Further proof this whole thing between us was a bad idea.
I had to take care of Willow, and then I had to get the hell away from her.