Chapter Four. #2
“No. You need to listen. You weren’t trained to be a soldier.
Adam, you were a bodyguard, which is different from someone in the armed forces.
Sure, you were into protection, but you never expected to be involved in a war.
Not one where you were exposed to violence for a length of time.
None of us could have anticipated what would happen with the Venomous Fangs. ”
“It was a homegrown war on American soil. A threat that was ignored. War hadn’t touched our soil since…” I broke off as my breathing quickened.
My mind flashed, and I was once again crouched down behind a container with James beside me. James’s face was set in stone as we raised our guns and fired at the approaching wave of men. There was a boom, then I felt the force of being blown backwards and realised I was facing death.
I hit the ground hard, and debris rained down around me. A searing pain hit my leg, not once but several times, and then darkness stole the sun from me.
I could hear my breathing and guessed that, for now, I was still alive. My ears rang, and all sounds around me were muffled. A single thought ran through my head: I’d failed. Frank and James had died.
How could I face our families now? A pinprick of light appeared, and then suddenly, James’s face was in mine as his hands frantically patted me down.
He winced and yanked off his belt and tied it tightly around my leg. Pain was rushing through me, and I could have screamed. Actually, I think I did scream.
James was shouting orders, and then he was gone, and I was being moved. Every single little movement caused agony in my leg. I was shoved into an ambulance, and I could smell burning around me. Surely, that was wrong.
Sounds were coming back as someone jabbed a needle in my arm, and I flinched. I heard an explosion, gunshots and shouts. Flames roared from somewhere close by, and the world smelled of desperation and chaos.
“Go! He needs a surgeon!” someone yelled, but it was faint, almost dulled against the roar of war around me.
I blinked. Did I even still have a leg? All I could feel was sheer burning pain.
Don’t they say that amputees can still feel their missing limbs?
Doors slammed shut, and I wondered what was happening.
There was too much going on. Where was James?
Why wasn’t he with me? Did he know I was going to die like Frank?
“Breathe, Adam,” a voice said in my ear.
“Keep the mask on; it’s helping you breathe,” someone snapped as I tried to pull something from my face. Did I want to keep breathing if I’d lost a leg? That was a good question, and I almost laughed.
Loud noises boomed around me as the ambulance I was in began moving. Explosions, gunshots, screams, and yells. It was the pure epitome of being in a war zone, only we were on American soil. This should happen here. Wars like this happened in faraway places.
A smell permeated the air: death. It’s distinctive, and once smelled, nobody would ever forget it. Had death sunk into my pores, was it finally coming for me?
I thought of my family; James would look after them. They’d survive without me.
“Nobody has to survive without you, Adam. Breathe deeply.”
“Janet!” I gasped and sucked in air.
“You’re having a flashback, Adam, just breathe deeply,” Janet ordered.
“Oh man,” I forced out, my throat constricting. “I’m fucked up.”
“No, you’re traumatised, and rightfully so. I was there too that day. I saw what you saw,” Janet replied.
That stunned me. “You were?”
“Yes, Drake had ordered me out of Rapid City as a friend of the club. But I stayed because I knew I’d be needed,” Janet replied.
“You could have been killed!” I forced out.
“Yes. And that would have been a shame, but I was needed and stayed. I sat with James as he paced back and forth, waiting for news about you and Drake. I sat with a great many that day,” Janet said calmly. I focused on her voice.
“Why aren’t you traumatised?” I demanded.
Janet laughed.
“I should be, shouldn’t I? I had therapy, Adam. They recommend that a therapist see someone to unload. So, I made sure I attended weekly sessions because I knew what I would hear would be upsetting. It was, and my therapist helped me.”
“I feel calmer.” I loosened my grip on the phone.
“Good. Take that medication, Adam, and work on those breathing exercises. Guilt is a useless emotion; make it your bitch, not the other way around,” Janet ordered.
“Is that really a suitable comment for therapy?”
“Does it matter? Are you going to be its bitch or make it yours? Only you can decide, Adam. Things happened that we couldn’t control.
But none of us is to blame for that. If nobody had stood up to Fury, imagine where we’d all be now.
Because Adam, you, James, Drake, and all the others, saved us from that fate. And I thank you for that.”
Janet’s words made me pause. She thanked me? Fury would have used her up like he did all women. Anyone linked to Rage MC, he’d have gone after. Janet was a sweet and wonderful lady. Fury and the Fangs would have abused her like every other woman they came across. Something flickered deep inside me.
“I saved you from that.”
“Yes, you did. I know what Fury would have done to me and to all the other women attached to Rage MC. He’d have destroyed us. Thanks to your brave actions, it didn’t happen.”
I turned that over in my mind. Damn.
“People have said that to me in the past, Janet. Yet somehow it means more today, why?” I asked.
“Because you’re open to healing, Adam. Before seeking me out, you weren’t, so the words bounced off you.
Of course, it’s hard to assimilate that you’re a hero.
None of you alpha assholes like to admit that, but you are, to an entire city, you’re our heroes.
And to a nation that watched appalled—yeah, you showed them what a real American does for their country.
That sent shock waves up and down the country.
It ended a president’s term when the truth came out, and now, we have a national hero as president.
“Major General Winslow is a hero to millions of Americans. He stood up for what was right, even risking a court-martial. If not for him, Rapid City would have fallen. And unsurprisingly, Antony Parker-Jones is VP. A man who drew weapons to defend his state, while every other political bastard apart from Andrew Wainwright ran. The country is better off for those men. And we know for a damn fact, they won’t sell us out! You’re a hero like them, too, Adam.”
“No!”
“Yes. Because Winslow was a soldier, he had to stay; Parker-Jones was a politician; this was his dominion. But you? Rapid City was your home; you could easily have moved away and let the state fall to Fury. That makes you more of a hero than them, because you were Joe Public and stepped up to do the proper thing,” Janet argued.
I wanted to deny her words. But they sank home.
I didn’t think I was a hero, just a man who’d performed the right thing.
It was bred into the American people to defend their home and freedom.
And that’s what I’d done. Somehow, that made me a hero.
I could see why people might think so, but I didn’t feel like one. I felt like an emotional mess instead.
“Don’t overthink things, Adam. You’re at the beginning of the process. I’m going to go now and let you consider what we’ve talked about. Remember, you can contact me at any moment after six at night our time.”
“Sorry, Janet, I didn’t think you might have been with a client,” I replied.
“If I had been, I wouldn’t have answered. Enjoy the snow and play with your children. And take that medication! Bye, Adam.” Janet hung up.
I stared out of the window, feeling raw and wrung out. The memory had taken a lot out of me, and I needed to recharge. A large mug was slid in front of me, and I glanced up and saw Trudy.
“My father was a soldier. I recognise PTSD when I see it. There’s more support today than back in his day. Don’t be afraid of asking for it; a brave man knows when he needs help and seeks it,” she said and walked away.
Those words were quite true, even with a stubborn asshole like me.