Chapter Four
Kyle
Kyle was starting to wish that he was back in Afghanistan…or at least Djibouti—anywhere but here.
The others were still looking at the pot of chili on the stove, and the echoes of their groans and muttered curses had yet to dissipate. Despite threats, bribes, and intimidation, he couldn’t get any of the others to even attempt to cook anything for the evening meal.
This weekend it was going to be even worse.
“That’s it. I’m calling,” Evans said, pulling out his cell phone.
“We can’t serve pizza every night,” Kyle snapped. “They come here to recover and be healthy, not eat their weight in carbs and cardboard.”
“There’s no cardboard in pizza,” John said, scandalized.
“Look it up,” Kyle dared, raising an eyebrow.
John pulled his phone out and began furiously typing while Murdock chewed on a piece of cornbread from last night. They’d had chili and cornbread for three nights now, and even Aiden—who hadn’t said one word to anyone since he showed up—complained.
Kyle thought the lot of them were ungrateful brats who had stuff handed to them for far too long—foodwise, anyway.
“We can’t get the cleaners to cook up something?” John asked, grimacing at the pot.
Kyle gave him an incredulous look and he raised his hands in surrender.
“Okay, okay. It was just a thought. Don’t frag me, man.”
“Pizza will be here in thirty,” Evans said. “At least we only have one guest. Imagine if we had a full house. The pizza bill would be brutal.”
“Alright. John, you want to go see what Aiden wants to do? I’d like to talk to him if you can get him to come into the dining room. Tell him we’re working on the meal situation and if he wants something different, we can accommodate him.”
John was out of there before Kyle even turned around.
He put the lid on the chili and decided to freeze it later. He couldn’t bring himself to throw out good food just because they were all tired of eating it.
He’d had a solid lower-middle-class upbringing where chores got done without complaints, plates were cleaned, and thanks were given to his mom whether he liked the food or not. They were loving parents, but overworked. He had what he needed, but little else.
It wasn’t until he was older that his dad’s construction business got off the ground.
He had decided early on that he didn’t want anything to do with it. He wanted a different life. He wanted to serve his country. He wanted adventure. He wanted to be elite. Growing up, joining the Special Forces was his dream. As soon as he could, he contacted a recruiter and got the process started. He’d never looked back.
Until that last deployment. Until McClellan.
He was still immersed in his thoughts by the time the doorbell rang and the smell of hot pizza wafted into the dining room. Evans had ordered enough for twenty men and the driver had to make three trips to stack it all on the buffet.
Kyle tipped him generously, much to the driver’s delight.
Aiden came in shortly after, pushing his own chair and scowling. Kyle hadn’t seen anything but a scowl on his face since he’d arrived. He didn’t blame the guy a bit, but he was going to have to learn to get past the anger if he wanted to move on.
“Aiden?” Kyle asked. “What kind do you want? I think Wyatt ordered every kind known to man—” He opened a box and wrinkled his nose, “And some not.”
“Oh, that’s mine,” Evans said. “Anchovies, hot sauce, and pickles. It’s the bomb.”
“Dud, more like,” John commented, linking his hands behind his head.
Aiden’s lip twitched and Kyle didn’t know if it was in amusement or disgust. Whichever it was, he’d take it.
“Anchovies it is,” Kyle said, and made as if to put it on Aiden’s plate.
Aiden’s expression didn’t change as Kyle lowered the slice. He grinned a little and plopped it right down, watching an anchovy filet slide off in a river of white cheese.
Everyone watched in horrified silence, startled that he dared to joke with one so horribly wounded.
Aiden stared at him for so long that it almost became uncomfortable, when finally…he slid his hand across the table, picked up the slice, and took a bite.
“Good,” he grunted, lips twisting with a subtle smirk. The eye not covered by the patch gleamed with buried amusement.
The guys exploded into laughter at Kyle’s expense.
“Dude, he got you!” Evans said, chewing his nasty pizza with relish.
Murdock looked less angry and psychopathic than normal, and John was grinning and clapping his hands.
Aiden received the praise with a slight bow of his upper body, though his expression didn’t change much.
Kyle grinned and gave Aiden a nod of approval.
He looked less solemn after that, though he did abandon the fish pizza in favor of pepperoni. Kyle thought he was missing camaraderie, and he intended to make the young sergeant feel right at home.
∞∞∞
“They said they’ll fit you with the prosthetics whenever you feel like it. It’s completely up to you.”
They were in the living room after supper and Kyle was going over the prosthetist”s recommendations. Aiden looked pensive and nervous. He hadn’t said anything so far, and Kyle wondered if he was pushing him too hard too soon.
He was about to let up when Aiden spoke up. “All right.”
It was one word, but it gave Kyle an immense amount of happiness and satisfaction.
“Great,” Kyle said with feeling. “They’ll fit you with the prostheses and the adaptors. They’re some of the best on the market. Aiden, you can walk, you can ruck, you can ride a bike…you’ll be able to do almost anything you want.”
Aiden swallowed and looked away, but Kyle saw it on his face.
Hope.
∞∞∞
Kyle finished washing his face and hair and stepped out of the shower. The mirror was fogged, but he didn’t need it to know that he hadn’t yet gained the extra pounds many seemed to get after being out a while.
He didn’t intend to.
Every year, he had to work harder and harder to achieve the physical results that he’d barely had to sweat for in his early twenties. It was brutal on his knees and back, but he refused to give up. He was only thirty-nine.
He was in his prime, even if he wasn’t following his old dream anymore.
He had a new dream now, a new goal to focus on, and a new beginning. If he got lonely sometimes, well…that was human nature. He had the guys to talk to, and he would make that enough. He was too focused on his foundation to stop everything for a woman.
Even before he’d deployed that first time, Regina had wanted everything he could give and more.
She wanted his undivided attention—which he had loved— and his money—which he hadn’t loved quite so much. She had been a good woman, but over time something changed and he was never enough.
After the first deployment, she got manipulative and mean. He chalked it up to anxiety and maybe a lingering grudge against him for leaving, though he had no choice and he’d already been in when they’d met.
After the second deployment, he couldn’t see himself marrying her, though he loved her too much to break it off. He did his best to make her happy, but no matter how hard he tried, it never quite worked.
She left him for another man right after his third deployment, and that’s when he immediately volunteered for the fourth. That was the beginning.
The guys volunteered as well, and he dragged them all into hell.
The guilt of that never left him. It joined the guilt he held for all his other mistakes and they preyed on him in the dark hours and when he least expected it. He couldn’t see himself letting anyone else in, not again.
He could never make himself vulnerable like that, not when the last time got one of his brothers killed.
He sat on the edge of the bed and clutched his head, tugging the strands of his hair and letting the pain stabilize him. He was here now, and he had all kinds of positive stuff to focus on. He could make amends. He couple help Aiden, and when Jace showed up in a few more days, he would help him too.
He’d help them all.
Downstairs, Jimmy slid a plate of bacon, eggs, biscuits, and gravy over the counter and he took it into the dining room where Murdock was demolishing three breakfasts and Evans was joking with a very exasperated Aiden.
Jimmy came in with his coffee and juice and he thanked the man.
He took a healthy swig of the juice and was confused to find the ex-Navy guy still standing by his left arm.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were going to hire another chef?”
“I was…am. There haven’t been any replies to the ad over at the supermarket yet.”
Jimmy looked scandalized. “You put out an ad…for a chef?”
Kyle stared at him for a full five seconds. “Yes?”
Jimmy seemed to be having a stroke, or something that approximated a stroke. His face turned red and he was clenching his jaws and fists. He didn’t say anything, but it looked like he wanted to.
“I put it up at the supermarket in town. Wrote it myself.”
That didn’t seem to make the situation any better and Evans jumped up and led the irate chef back to the kitchen with a glare at Kyle. A moment later, they heard Jimmy bellowing about chili in his freezer.
Kyle ignored it and ate another bite of buttered biscuit.
“Maybe we had better ask around,” John said, coming in with a plate full of bacon.
“College,” Aiden said, much to everyone’s shock.
“What?” John asked.
“Check the college. They have a culinary school, don’t they?”
Kyle snapped his fingers. “That’s a damned good idea. John, get Evans on that.”
“Better not. He’ll just lure in all the girls, even the ones that can’t cook.”
Kyle scratched his chin. “Yeah…” He looked at Murdock, who lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes in warning.
No help there.
Murdock would send everyone five hundred miles in the opposite direction.
He took a sip of coffee and set it down. “John, I’ve got a mission for you.”
John groaned.
∞∞∞
Kyle was completely alone and the range was hot.
The weapon in his hands felt perfect, even though it was a civilian variant. The trigger squeeze was smooth and the reset was slick. All it took was a quick brush, release, brush, release—he barely had to move his finger.
The paper targets were brutalized as he double-tapped each one in succession before jogging down the trail and taking them out on the move. Run and gun wasn’t really his style, but he liked the challenge of it, and he had the ammo to spare.
He didn’t want to get rusty.
When he was out of full magazines, he dropped the rifle so that it dangled on its sling. He sidestepped as he pulled his sidearm and continued the assault on the paper army.
When he ran through two mags of .45 caliber ammo, he finally called it quits.
The range was one of his own construction, about half a mile from the chalet. There were two berms on either end, one to help block the sound from traveling, and the other to catch the lead.
He policed up his brass and his paper after chugging some water and wiping the sweat from his forehead.
The guys all used the range whenever they wanted. They were all highly trained and wanted to stay in fighting shape. Eventually, the guests might be able to use it as well, provided they signed a release and didn’t have any negative association with the sound of gunfire—which, to be honest, was highly unlikely for most of them.
He was back at the house when Murdock approached him with a grim expression on his face.
“What now?” Kyle asked.
“John went to the cooking school.”
Kyle stared at him. “And?”
“Evans got there first. John sent me home to tell you.”
“Wyatt stole our cook?!” Kyle shouted.
“Sorry.”
She wouldn’t want to have anything to do with them tomorrow after Evans ghosted her. Kyle knew he would too. Evans never let anyone get too close, too serious. Never.
Murdock walked back inside and Kyle noticed Aiden in the window, staring at his rifle. Kyle followed, walking carefully up to the man.
“I heard shots.”
Kyle frowned.
“I still have one good ear,” Aiden said testily.
Kyle sighed. “Sorry about that. I thought the barrier and the walls would stop most of it from traveling. We have a range over the ridge. We like to stay sharp.”
Aiden nodded. He didn’t need to ask what for.
“You can go if you want after you get used to your legs again. No sense in keeping them on the sidewalk when we’ve got this place to play in,” he said nodding toward the mountains with a small smile.
“Will I still be here then?” he asked bitterly.
Kyle frowned and knelt down next to him, resting an elbow on the armrest of the wheelchair. “They didn’t tell you?”
Aiden looked at him fully. “Tell me what?”
“You can stay as long as you want. No strings.”
Aiden scoffed and Kyle felt his pain. “You mean you won’t shuffle me off when I get too difficult, or when the pain is too bad for me to get out of bed, or when I just fucking don’t want to see anyone?!” he yelled, voice rising with his temper.
Kyle waited after he stopped, chest aching with the fact that this man had been passed off when his case became too emotionally or physically difficult to cope with.
He looked him in the eye. “Not even then.”
He put a hand on his shoulder a moment, then left him there to think while staring out at the mountains in the distance. Sometimes nature could heal just as well—if not better—than any therapist.
Kyle knew that first hand.