Unable to handle another second, I pull her to my chest, and she clings to me like she never has, the same two words spilling from her lips over and over as she clutches me tight. “Help me.”
It’s then I realize that I’m only half the man she needs, because I can’t. I can’t help her. And her tears still won’t come.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Briggs
“Well?” my Gran asks, rushing to greet me at the door as I’m returning home from meeting with my commanding officer. The thirty-day mandatory convalescent leave they placed me on has finally come to an end, and I’ve never been so eager to get back to work. This R & R has been anything but relaxing.
“Are you a free man?” She looks so hopeful, her dark brown eyes big and round. I hate that I’m about to crush her with my next words. But as it turns out, I don’t have to say a thing. One look at my face has her gripping the counter for stability. “Christopher, you didn’t?”
“Gran,” I say, grabbing her shoulders and leading the woman who raised me to sit in a chair before she falls over. “It’s my job.”
“You could stay here and work the ranch. You love the horses.” I’m so thankful my Gran and Gramps took me in when my mother lost custody of me as an infant. Their horse ranch has been the place I’ve called home my entire life. When Gramps died a few years ago, she begged me to get out and take over running the place, but I wasn’t ready. If the past thirty days has convinced me of anything, it’s that I’m still not ready.
“One day,” I promise. “I’ll retire. Just like we always planned.”
Her red-rimmed eyes drip with tears, and I feel like I’m failing her. “That was before. Things have changed. I almost lost you.”
“But you didn’t.” Placing a comforting hand on her back, I lean in to kiss her cheek. “I’m right here.”
“Why are you doing this?”
For the past month, I’ve been absolutely miserable. Dreaming of Scottie, thinking of her every waking moment. The long nights have lengthened to unbearable, and all I want is her. I’m both happy to know that she’s reunited with her family and fucking dying inside every time I imagine his hands on her body. It’s sick and twisted, but it’s how I feel. For my own sanity, I need to return to my first love. “I’m a soldier, Gran. I need to go back.”
“I don’t like it.”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “You never have.”
“And you never listen to me,” she says, wiping her nose and drying her tears.
“Just tell me why?” For the first time since I left Katy at the airport, I’m tempted to talk about it. Instead, I offer a sad excuse.
“Old habits die hard, Gran.”
The first week back at the base is insane, filled with meetings and paperwork. I’ve already been back to visit Mandy and the kids, keeping an eye on them so she could get out and away for a bit. It makes me feel good to be able to do little things like that for her, but it’s also hard. I’m mentally exhausted.
“Hey, man,” my new roommate, Connors calls, greeting me as I return to the barracks. I haven’t quite gauged how I feel about him yet, but he seems a lot like the good-time GI I used to be. A much bigger version. He stands six-four and has to weigh over three hundred pounds.
He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “Some of the guys and I are gonna hit up Rox’s pub tonight.” He grabs his keys and wallet, shoving them into his pockets. “Why don’t you come out?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him no, but the alternative is another night spent alone with my memories, and I’m in desperate need of a break. “You know what? I think I’ll do that. Give me fifteen to get showered and changed?”
“You want to be DD?” Connors plops down on his bunk, pulling out his phone and tapping away.
“Fuck no,” I answer seriously. I have too much pent-up tension to be designated driver for anyone. I’ve done well enough to keep my nose clean. He grins at me from where he sits. “It’s like that, huh?”
The woman I love is probably at home cooking dinner for her husband while he’s absorbing her beautiful smiles the way I used to, and probably kissing her tears away too.
Fuck. My. Life.
“Yeah, it’s definitely like that.”
The thumping of the bass and rotating lights sends a jolt to my senses, knocking me off balance. It’s my first time out since before I was deployed to Iraq, and I need a moment to catch my bearings.
“You all right, Briggs?” Connors’s buddy Riley reaches for my arm to steady me.
I shake my head. “Yeah. Just a little off-kilter. I’m good now.” He nods as I give him a brotherly slap to the back, and we continue on to the crowded bar.
Like Moses parting the Red Sea, people scatter as Connors announces my presence. “We’ve got a real American hero coming through. Show some fucking respect.”
Okay, maybe I don’t like this guy.
“What in the hell are you doing?” I shout as he gives me a shit-eating grin.
“Hey.” He looks over to me with a shrug. “You gotta use that POW shit to your advantage, Briggs. You should be thanking me.”
“What am I thanking you for, exactly?”
After relaying our order to the bartender, he looks back at me over his shoulder. “Pretty sure you could have any girl in the bar tonight, bud. Choose wisely.”
It’s then that I notice the many pairs of eyes fixed on our little group, more specifically on me. “I’m not here for a hookup. Just a distraction.”
“This place is filled with distractions of every shape, and color…you’re welcome.” I realize then I must look the way I feel if he’s working this hard to get me laid.
“Appreciate it, man, but I don’t need the help.”
“A little help never hurt anybody,” he says as he waves a group of girls over, wrapping his arms around the waist of a busty redhead.
“Briggs, this is Tonya. Tonya, Sergeant Christopher Briggs.”
“Hey,” she shouts over the music, and I give her a friendly nod while she tries not to squirm as my new roommate slips his hand up the back of her shirt. Classy. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same to you.” I nod, turning to divert my gaze from what’s quickly turning into a public groping session.
“Stop that,” she scolds Connors before she turns to me. “So, he wasn’t lying, you really are that guy on the news. Wow.”
“Please don’t be impressed. Getting captured really isn’t the sign of a job well done.” It’s so weird how everyone suddenly treats me like I’m something special when I didn’t do anything deserving. The media is painting us up as heroes instead of survivors, instead of soldiers just doing our jobs. I fucked up, and we got caught. That’s the truth of it. A knot lodges in my throat—thinking of my survival reminds me that my two best friends weren’t so lucky. I still can’t accept that they’re gone. I’m so screwed up at this point, between mourning Scottie and my friends, that I’m not sure which ache to try and conquer first.
I grab my beer from the bar, giving it a long pull, and Tonya looks back at Connors with wide o-kay eyes, and I realize what a prick I’m being.
“Sorry,” I offer in apology, “but it’s really not party conversation. You know?”
She nods, “Yeah, sorry.”
Months ago, the blonde standing next to her would’ve already been on my radar. I wouldn’t have hesitated with some line to work myself into a better night. Instead, I motion for the bartender as I pluck my wallet from my pocket.
“No, I’m sorry for being a downer. Tell you what, shots are on me.” Connors gives me a nod, and before I can place the order, a small hand smacks a couple of twenties down on the bar in front of me.
“You dismiss yourself all you want, Sergeant, but I was raised to thank a soldier for his sacrifice, and you aren’t buying me a drink tonight; I’m buying yours.”
I turn to see the little blonde eyeing me with determination.