Chapter 5
Keel couldn’t imagine how awful Frankie felt about what happened. She’d turned on a stove, and then a fire started. For the longest time, he hated the man who killed his parents. Then he realized he was giving that man power.
He finally forgave him, but it had taken a lot of work and reading, a lot of self-reflections, especially on rucks.
It’s how he’d learned meditation. Long rucks meant a lot of time alone.
Being with only yourself for half a day, longer when they were in intense training mode, had left him with nothing to do other than think.
Some of the books he read had helped. Most self-reflections were difficult, but he learned a lot about himself in the hundreds of hours he spent rucking and orienteering.
It was why he’d become a Delta. Hours spent working on his mind and soul had given him the push to complete the insane training, where having a good ‘un was something like a sarcastic send off, or he thought of it that way. He hadn’t let the sarcasm get in his way.
Instead, he’d used it to push him along, keeping him from quitting.
Joining Delta had been as much for him as it had been for his parents. They would have been proud. His dad would have been incredibly proud. His mom would have worried.
“I’m in the Army still. I fought through the grief, the pain of losing my parents and my marriage on the same day.
It took hard work, like a lot of work. There’s something we do called rucks.
It’s a twenty-mile walk with our packs on.
The packs are called rucksacks, that’s why it’s called a ruck.
But the name doesn’t matter. What’s important is we walk those miles alone.
You’re in your head all day. All day. You think.
Maybe it was the books I read, probably the books, because I couldn’t come up with it all on my own. It took time, but you can heal, too.”
She reached over and put her hand on his.
He turned his hand over, letting their fingers weave together.
What was he doing? This woman was just out of a horrific relationship, dealing with a lot of bullshit.
He didn’t need to add to it. And he would add to the BS.
He wasn’t relationship material, Shana had made that very clear.
He didn’t know how to deal with being a boyfriend, and he wouldn’t do that again, anyway.
“I don’t know that therapy would help.”
“Not therapy per se, reading, then thinking. I have my Kindle in the condo, and the book is on there. Read some and sit in the hammock on your patio and think. That’s it.”
Frankie drew in a slow breath. What else did she have going on? It wasn’t like she had a job. She’d gone to college, gotten a degree, but Forest had sabotaged her interview process, not once, not twice, but four times, making it impossible for her to get a job.
When she’d graduated, she wanted to work, but Forest didn’t want that for her. And Forest always got what he wanted.
“What do I have to lose? Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll read the book.”
“Good. We can talk about parts of it if you want.”
“I don’t know that I’ll be good at talking.”
He pulled her up and smiled down at her, still holding her hand, which felt way too good. “Let’s go get our toes wet before we go inside.”
“It’s cold.”
“Fine, I’ll put you on my shoulders while I go in and get wet.”
Laughter spilled out. “No way. I’m too heavy for that.”
He threw his head back, his laugh loud and boisterous. “I think my full pack, body armor, and weapons weigh more than you.”
“Nuh-uh. You’ve got to be lying.”
“Dead serious. I’m strong. Here, climb up.”
Keel went down on one knee and pulled her close so she could get into position to climb up on his shoulders.
“Are you sure I’m not too heavy?”
“Absolutely.”
Long ago, when she and Forest had first gotten together, they’d been at a pool party, and someone wanted to do chicken fights.
She’d climbed up on his shoulders to do the fight, but he caved at the first push from the girl opposite her.
His friends started in on him, and he told them it was because she was fat.
They started calling her fawg after that.
Forest complained about her weight, restricting her calorie intake. Slowly at first, but then more as time went on. She should have walked away, but at the time, she didn’t feel that she could.
She was up on Keel’s shoulders, and she was sure he would stumble. But he didn’t. He moved toward the water, his gait fast, his steps sure. It was like she weighed nothing to him. When they entered the waves, she was sure he would fall, but he held steady even when the waves washed above his knees.
He went in deeper, the water was at his waist, and a wave blasted him.
She screeched. Not because he wavered, and she was afraid of him falling, but the cold water splashed her toes.
She’d been loosely holding on, but her fingers gripped his hair tighter as laughter spilled from his lips first, then hers.
He didn’t go in deeper, but he ran out of the waves then back in a few times, all while she was on his shoulders. Not once did it seem like he would fall.
When he finally walked out of the water, he bent, and she climbed off his back and onto the dry sand. The heaviness of her heart seemed lighter now. The fog of pain she’d spent the last few years in seemed to lift.
“That was fun.” She meant the words. It had been a long time since she’d said what she meant. God, she was fucked up. Maybe Keel’s book would help. Just talking to him for an hour or so had already helped. The feelings of not belonging anywhere, not deserving life had faded.
“It was fun. Thank you. I haven’t had fun like that in a while,” Keel said.
“I’ll read the book. Just don’t expect much from me. I’m damaged goods.”
“You’re not damaged goods. I’ve seen damaged goods in my work.
People who use kids by strapping bombs on them and forcing them to walk toward US and Allied soldiers.
People who slit the throats of women, bastards who destroy their families to wreak havoc on a country or a region.
That’s damaged. You made a mistake, and you’ve put yourself through hell to pay for it.
It’s time you dug yourself out of the pit and walked back into the light. ”
His words took her voice, leaving her unsure what to say. How could she respond to the horror of his words? There was nothing she could come up with, so she put her hand in his as they made their way to the chairs.
He dropped her hand and grabbed both chairs and the cooler pack that he swung over his shoulder. They made their way to the condo building and climbed the stairs up to their floor.
“Let me grab the reader. I’ll pull up the book so you can start.”
She glanced up, meeting his gaze. He wasn’t angry. Instead, he smiled at her as he set down the chairs and opened the door to his place.
“Thank you.”
“I hope it helps you like it helped me.”
After he stepped into his place, she entered the code for her door and stood in the doorway until he brought out his Kindle and handed it to her.
“How about breakfast tomorrow? You can come over, and I’ll fix an omelet.”
She thought about saying no, but she wanted to see him again. It was stupid to encourage him, but he wasn’t flirting or hitting on her. He was just being a decent person.
“Okay. Breakfast. I’d like that.”
“Awesome. I wake up early, so when you get up, knock.”
She nodded. “I will and thank you for this. I’m going to go read.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Frankie shut the door, turning the deadbolt, then leaning against the cool metal. What was she doing? This was insane. She’d just left Forest, but Keel wasn’t offering a relationship. He was just being a friend.
She pushed off the door and headed to the couch, plopping down to read the book. Did she deserve to get better? Castigation seemed like an easier path. But how long could she hate herself and not do something about it?