Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Tanner paused outside the rec center, bracing a hand against the stucco wall. He took several breaths to steady himself, repeating his mantras.
Embrace the uncomfortable. No growth without fear.
Then he pasted on a smile and walked inside.
Noah was already here, chatting with some of the kids who were regulars.
Damien, who was around fifteen, raced over as soon as he saw Tanner. “Hey, where were you last time?”
“I was feeling under the weather. Really missed seeing you guys. I would’ve been here if I could.”
Damien’s eyes had grown as big as monster truck tires. “I didn’t know you could get sick. I thought Navy SEALs were like, superhuman.”
A girl named Julie walked up. She was a freshman in high school, wore her hair buzzed on one side, and had a sardonic sense of humor. “You don’t think Tanner’s superhuman? Look at him.”
He laughed off their comments. He’d heard it all before, and he knew they didn’t mean to be hurtful.
The exact opposite. But this was the very reason he volunteered to spend time with these kids.
To make sure they understood that everyday people, from all walks of life, could be heroes.
Invincibility wasn’t a requirement, nor was it realistic.
“We get sick just like anybody. And injured. We even cry.”
Damien looked skeptical.
Tanner felt the kids tense up as a newcomer walked into the room. But the new guy was someone Tanner knew well.
“Hey, man!” Sean Holt pulled him into a hug.
“Good to see you. Been too long.”
“No kidding. I don’t get over here from L.A. often enough.” Sean smirked. “Though it does help to get an invite. Makes me think Noah’s the only one who still loves me.”
“Maybe I’m just shy.”
“Or maybe you’re full of it.” Sean looked over at Damian and Julie. “This guy seem shy and retiring to you two?” They beamed at being pulled into the conversation.
“If Tanner’s shy,” Julie deadpanned, “then the rest of us are, like, comatose.”
Sean had been a Marine at the same time Tanner and Noah were SEALs. They’d carried out some missions together overseas. Since leaving the service, Sean had joined the LAPD. Now, he was a detective with the Gang and Narcotics Division.
Noah strode over. “Sean, you made it.” They hugged, pounding each other on the back. “Thank you so much for being here.”
“Happy to help.”
“Hey everyone, listen up,” Noah said. “Detective Holt is going to tell us a little about himself and his work with the LAPD. I brought him in today because he’s got some amazing stories, both from his days in the Marines and on the streets of L.A.
But I want all of you on your best behavior so we can represent West Oaks right. ”
After everyone had settled down and Sean had launched into his war stories, Tanner leaned against a table on one side of the room.
He loved giving back by volunteering with these kids.
Many of them had trauma in their backgrounds, and they were here for mentors they could trust. The military might not be a great fit for all of them, but at least they could explore the option in a safe space with open communication.
And Tanner knew that, sometimes, the best kind of healing was devoting one’s life to others.
He just wished someone had told him back at the start of his military career that healing wasn’t a straight line.
That the choice not to give up had to be made every single day when things got hard.
When he’d been a SEAL, he’d had no idea some of his toughest days would be ahead of him as a civilian.
But maybe he wouldn’t have listened, any more than Damien wanted to hear that stuff now.
Hell, Tanner wasn’t all that good at following his own advice. He’d told Faith she had to get comfortable being uncomfortable. But when was the last time he’d really pushed himself?
Case in point: he’d been a coward about asking her out again.
It had been two weeks since his “date” with Faith. The date she’d called “practice.” But by the end of it, he’d wanted it to be real.
On her front porch that night, he’d looked for any sign she might be feeling the things he was feeling. It had taken all of his willpower not to just say, Fuck it, and kiss her.
But he’d known she was in a vulnerable place. She’d told him more than enough to convey that her marriage had a dark side, one that she was still struggling over. It wouldn’t have been right for him to get all handsy with her, not unless he’d known for sure she wanted it.
In the days that had followed, he’d only gotten less sure of himself. He’d texted with Faith a couple of times, testing the waters. But now, it seemed Faith had put him squarely back in the friend zone.
He could’ve taken the risk of just asking her to go out with him. But that would’ve required a bit more nerve and backbone than he seemed capable of at the moment.
Superhuman, my ass.
Sean had taken off his LAPD windbreaker, and he walked casually across the front of the room as he spoke, holding the kids’ attention. “One of the worst things I have to see in my job is people your age, people who haven’t even graduated high school, dying because of drugs.”
Sean went over to his bag. “There’s something I carry with me at all times. Anybody know what this is?” He unzipped the leather duffle and pulled out a small white package.
“That’s Narcan,” Damien said.
Tanner hated that the kid knew it by sight. Damien’s mother had almost died of an overdose just a few months before. Both parents had been in and out of jail. Tanner had met the boy’s grandmother, who was his caretaker. Thank goodness she was looking out for him.
“That’s right. Tanner knows about this stuff too.
” Sean gestured at him. “When he was a SEAL, Tanner had to have all sorts of equipment ready to treat the wounded in a war zone. But all of you know there are dangers here at home, too. You’ll find Narcan in any squad car, in local libraries, your schools—because these days, an overdose can happen anywhere.
A classmate might buy pills on social media, thinking it’s one thing, and find out only too late that it’s lethal.
Now, I’m going to show you exactly how to use Narcan nasal spray just in case you’re called upon to save a life.
Who wants to help me out with a demonstration? ”
A dozen hands shot up.
But Sean pointed at someone who hadn’t volunteered. “What about you? Damien, right?”
The kid shook his head, obviously uncomfortable. Shit. Sean hadn’t known about Damien’s history, which had been an oversight on their part. Tanner was mentally kicking himself for not mentioning it.
“I’ll do it.” Tanner stepped forward. “And Julie will help out. She’s going to save me.”
Julie jumped up, mugging for the others.
Tanner went over and lay down on the floor at the front. He put his hands behind his head, smiling.
Sean poked him with his foot. “You’re supposed to be suffering an overdose, not laying out to get a tan. Somebody needs to give this guy some acting lessons.”
The kids hollered and laughed, which was of course the idea. Lightening the mood.
Tanner sprawled like he was unconscious and closed his eyes.
“First,” Sean said, “you need to check for signs of an opioid overdose. His breathing will be very slow, irregular, or might have stopped. His pupils will have shrunk to pinpricks. Try to wake him by shouting and shaking him by the shoulders.”
Julie did as Sean instructed. She peeled back one of Tanner’s eyelids, her face appearing in front of him.
“Next, and this is very important, have someone call 911. Then grab your Narcan, like so.”
Sean took her through the rest of the steps, ending up with Tanner in the recovery position on his side. He opened his eyes to watch the kids, noting that even Damien was smiling shyly.
Another pang of guilt and regret shot through Tanner for missing the last session. He knew in theory that being here, among these incredible kids, was just as cathartic for him. So why had it become such a struggle to show up? Why couldn’t he do the things he knew he needed?
His body was capable. He was grateful for that. Yet his mind kept getting in the way.
After leaving the rec center, Tanner and Sean went to a cafe down the street.
Noah had to get back to work for a weekend shift.
Everyone had them sometimes, but Noah did almost every week.
The curse of being a captain, as far as Tanner was concerned.
Too many planning meetings, too much time spent checking up on other guys.
Inside the cafe, a singer-songwriter type strummed an acoustic guitar and cooed lyrics into a microphone. They ordered iced coffees and grabbed a table on the patio, where shade trees cut the afternoon sun. The air smelled of jasmine and fresh cut grass.
“Thanks for being there today,” Tanner said. “The kids loved it.”
“Maybe. They definitely love you. That was great to see. You’re making a big difference in their lives.”
“Trying to.”
Sean crossed his legs. “When’s the last time I saw you? Six months ago?”
“Something like that.”
“You know what I’ve been up to. Working my informants, the occasional bust, and spinning my damn wheels, same as always. We make progress taking down a bad guy, and three more pop up. Like the Silverlake Syndicate. They bit the dust, but even worse people have taken over their territory.”
Tanner knew the Syndicate’s history well. They’d been a small but powerful presence in the L.A. underworld for decades. But recently, after a deadly battle with another group of mobsters, the Syndicate had fallen apart.
“We’ve got cartels moving black tar and fentanyl in and out of our city,” Sean said, “and it’s like a whack-a-mole game.”
“That sounds almost like whining. Not that I’m surprised. You jarheads were always a little soft.”
Sean took a gulp of coffee, shaking his head. “There’s that ornery S.O.B. I know and love. How have you been keeping busy? Still got a different girl on your arm every month? I swear, it was like flipping a calendar.”
“Can’t help it if the ladies love me.”
“And you never had to lift a finger. That pissed me off. I happen to still be single. Dating in L.A. sucks.”
Tanner cracked up, thinking of Faith’s mishap with the high school kid. “It’s not so easy here in West Oaks, either. But I’m single, too. Have been for a little while.”
“Needed a breather?”
Tanner drew his finger through the condensation on his iced coffee. He wasn’t sure what he’d say until he opened his mouth. “Actually, I got injured. Not long after I last saw you.”
“I think Noah mentioned something about that. What happened?”
“Got knocked on the head pretty bad. Concussion.”
He’d been on bodyguard duty, working an assignment involving Sylvie’s boyfriend, Nic, and the Silverlake Syndicate.
Tanner and Sylvie had been ambushed. That had been bad enough, getting caught by surprise.
Embarrassing as hell. Tanner had fought back against the assailant, thinking he could keep the situation from spinning fully out of control.
Then another bad guy had appeared out of nowhere. He’d clocked Tanner over the head with a blackjack, knocking him instantly unconscious.
When Tanner woke, he’d found his friends gone. He hadn’t remembered where he was. And all he could think of was Afghanistan, like that shit had happened the minute before, and not years back.
The panic had been enough to send him into unconsciousness again.
The next time he’d woken, Tanner had been in a hospital. He’d careened out of bed, knocking over equipment and sprawling onto the floor with his ass hanging out.
Good times.
“How’s the recovery been?”
“Uh, not so great actually.” His throat had gone dry. He sipped his drink.
Tanner wasn’t even sure why he was telling Sean this. Maybe it was because Sean didn’t see him every day, didn’t work with him. This confession didn’t feel like such a risk.
The words started tumbling out of him. “Physically, I’m better.
That’s what everyone says. But there’s this buzz of thoughts in my brain, always in the background.
Like I can’t fully calm down. Like I know something else is about to happen, any second, and when it doesn’t come that just makes it worse. ”
Sean folded his arms on the table, leaning in. “Have you talked to any professionals about this?”
“Not recently. I went through something similar a few years ago. I know…what it is.” He’d been diagnosed. Why couldn’t he just say the words? “But I thought I was over it.”
“You had PTSD?”
Tanner couldn’t even nod. He just sat there.
Sean knew about how Tanner had been wounded overseas. Tanner had left the SEAL Teams not long after.
“There’s no shame in that, man. You’re far from alone.”
“I know that, believe me. I was the damned poster boy for self-acceptance and mindfulness and all that shit.”
Sean snickered. “Of course you were.”
“That’s what makes me so…” Mad, he thought. So fucking mad. All that work he did, and none of it mattered. He was sitting on a coffee shop patio with strains of indie rock drifting from inside, and he had to swallow down the urge to scream.
Sean shifted his weight in his seat. “Okay, I think I’m getting it. You had symptoms like this not long after you discharged. But you thought you’d dealt with it. And now, after the concussion, it’s back.”
It sounded so straightforward coming out of Sean’s mouth. “That’s the story. Basically.”
A few steps forward, a dozen back.
“Does Noah know?”
“A little. But he’d probably overreact. I don’t want to get stuck behind a desk at work.”
Being a bodyguard could get tense on occasion.
But most of the time, Tanner stood around looking intimidating while rich people went about their business.
He provided peace of mind. It was a far cry from the action he’d seen in the teams, and sometimes, he missed that constant pressure.
When they hadn’t been fighting, they’d been training hard to fight. Every. Single. Day.
The quieter everything else got, the lighter that pressure, the more the shit in his mind could start to swirl.
But being a civilian had given him the opportunity to make his community better in other ways. And he loved the camaraderie he’d built with the other Bennett Security bodyguards. Most of them, at least. He couldn’t stomach the idea of giving that up. Not even temporarily.
If he was saddled with desk duty, that buzz in his head would only get worse.
“I can do my job,” he said, “but I can’t stand people second-guessing me.”
“That’s part of being a team, though. Knowing your brothers are looking out for you.”
“Yeah, and I’m looking out for them. I’m not going to let them down. Period. I just needed to say this to someone.”
Sean touched his shoulder, squeezing it. “I’m glad you did. How can I help?”
“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out. It just sucks.”
But when he conquered it this time—because he would—how long until he found himself back here again?
That thought probably scared him most of all.