by A. T Brennan
“You went to work today?” he asked as he took a swig of his beer.
“I did.” She nodded and took a sip of her drink. “Longest shift of my life,” she added when he kept looking at her.
“I would think getting clocked in the face with a loaded gun would have earned you a day off,” he said with a smirk. “Not to mention the whole saving a man’s life part.”
“Yeah, I didn’t really tell anyone about that,” she said with a small smile as she took another drink.
“Why not?”
“I didn’t want to bother them.”
“Most people would be telling the story to everyone who would listen. We made the paper,” he added.
“We did?” She gave him a surprised look. “I don’t read the paper, and if anyone at work did they didn’t mention it.”
“How did you explain the near shiner?”
“I opened a door on myself.”
“Not a great story.”
“Good enough if no one really cares.” She shrugged and took another long drink.
“That’s a strange answer.”
“Probably.” She nodded. “I can be a little strange.”
“Can’t we all,” he said with a grin as he finished off his drink.
“You go to work?” she asked.
“I did.”
“And getting shot didn’t earn you a day off?”
“It didn’t before,” he said darkly and looked at the wall for a second.
“How long did you serve?” she asked quietly.
He just looked at her and studied her for a moment.
“Almost twelve years.”
“Did you enlist right out of high school?”
“A few years after.” He nodded. “I was nineteen when I applied, twenty when I joined and thirty-one when I was discharged.”
“Medically?”
“Yup.” He nodded. “Another?”
“Thank you.” She nodded and handed him the empty bottle. She watched as he went to the fridge and pulled out two more beers. He didn’t seem like he was in any hurry to get her to leave, and she had to admit it was nice to actually talk to someone, especially after how she’d been feeling all day.
He came back with the drinks and handed her one.
“How long have you been out?”
“About five years.”
“What happened, if you don’t mind talking about it?”
“You ever known anyone who served?”
“My grandfather.” She nodded. “He retired from the army after thirty-three years. I was only a kid when he hung up the uniform but he was really proud of his service, we all were.”
“Did he go overseas?”
She just nodded. “A few times, before I was born. He didn’t talk about those times a lot.”
“My shrinks in the rehab hospital kept telling me to talk about it.” He smirked.
“They say talking about your traumas helps.” She shrugged and looked down at her wrist.
“You find talking about your traumas helpful?”
“Only when the ears listening to me care.” She looked up at him. “Otherwise it just brings up bad memories for no reason.”
“And what about you, Kenzie, you care about me?” he asked as he gave her a cocky grin and leaned back against the couch.
“As much as I can for just meeting you,” she said after a pause. She had no idea what had come over her. Maybe it was the beer she’d pretty much inhaled after a sleepless night and two days of barely eating, but she was feeling pretty bold. “I know what it’s like to have something that haunts you. I saw it in my grandfather, I see it in myself, and I see it in you.”
“You diagnosing me with PTSD?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Just as someone who has things in their past that won’t let them go.”
“You were close with your grandfather?” he asked after a long pause.
“He was the only father I knew.” She nodded. “He and my grandmother raised me. He died when I was sixteen, but he was the best man I’ve ever known.”
“What about your parents?”
She just looked down at her hand and started to rub the skin on her wrist as she glanced up at him. “My mom had me when she was fifteen. She died of a drug overdose when I was two. She never told anyone who my father was so my grandparents were the only family I ever knew.”
“Is your grandma still around?”
“She died.” She shook her head, took a drink of her beer and went right back to rubbing the skin of her wrist. “A month after I graduated from high school.”
“You have any other family?”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “You?”
“Mom, dad, sister, brother-in-law, two nephews, a niece and an assortment of cousins, aunts and uncles.” He sighed and shook his head. “But other than my sister I haven’t seen any of them in a long time.”
“Not even your parents? Do you not get along?”
“They’re great.” He shrugged. “Always have been, but it’s hard to have Sunday dinner with your perfect family when you’re the biggest fuck up on the tree. It’s hard to call them up and tell them I got let go from another menial job and I’m still single and living in this shithole.” He took another drink of his beer. “My family is full of over overachievers and I’m an embarrassment.”
“That’s gotta be tough,” she said as she leaned back.
“It’s not fun.”
She took another drink of her beer and felt the familiar flush on her cheeks that told her she was getting buzzed. She would have to stop after this if she wanted to be able to drive home.
“I did two tours overseas—Iraq and Afghanistan,” he said as he looked at her. “The first one I was young. I’d only been in for a year when my unit was given our orders. We shipped out and I was sent home eleven months into the twelve month tour.”
“Your side?” she asked quietly when he paused.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “The convoy I was in was hit. We were under fire and had to bail on the Humvees. We were in a hostile village and we had to wait for air support to get us out of there. We lost four guys and the building I was using for cover was hit with an RPG. I was hit with half a wall and it ripped a hole in my side, even with body armor on. It took two surgeries to put me back together and I spent three months in a rehab hospital stateside before returning to my unit.”
“Did you lose a lot of guys?” she asked quietly.
“Too many,” he said with a sigh. “More than half didn’t come home. My best friend died in front of me two weeks in.”
“I’m sorry.”
“My second tour was almost ten years later. I worked on bases stateside, a few short deployments and two postings overseas, but nothing in theatre—sorry, in an active combat zone. I did a lot of training, and then I got sent out for my second tour. We were supposed to train the locals and it was another year long tour. Ten months in the vehicle I was riding in hit an IED. The impact nearly blew my leg off and killed the three others riding in there with me. Four surgeries and eight months in a rehab hospital and I was discharged. Twelve years of my life gone. Dozens of friends lost. Scars all over my body and a chunk of my leg missing. Thanks for the memories. Oorah.” He shook his head bitterly and drained the rest of his drink.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she finished her beer. “I know it sounds trite, but thank you for your service, and for your sacrifice.” She looked down at her hands and turned the bottle around a few times. “What you did, what all of you did, made it so I can walk free. So everyone can live happy and free here at home. You answered a call that not a lot of people will.”
He just stared at her.
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I have a habit of saying the wrong thing. I’m—”
“No, not the wrong thing,” he cut her off. “Not a lot of people really thank me, not and actually mean it. I get a lot of lip service from strangers, especially from women.”
“I woul
d think that women would be all over you,” she said and almost clapped her hand over her mouth. That had slipped out.
“They are.” He smirked. “But they don’t exactly use their words to thank me, and when they do it’s not really sincere.”
“I’m not sure I get it,” she said honestly.
“Women love to fuck a veteran,” he said with a shrug. “It makes them feel good about themselves and gives them a story to tell their girlfriends.”
“Oh. I see,” she said, blushing as she looked at the television for a moment.
“Another?” he asked after a long silence as he nodded to her empty drink.
“Not if I want to drive home.” She shook her head regretfully.
“You work tomorrow?”
“I have the day off.”
“Same.” He shrugged. “Don’t drive home.”
“Can I leave my car on the street overnight?”
“There are no parking restrictions here,” he said with a chuckle.
“Sure, I can cab home,” she said as she handed him her empty bottle.
“You can cab it if you want, or you can be a big girl and crash here,” he said with a slightly pointed look and headed to his fridge.
Kenzie’s mind froze. He was inviting her to crash at his place? Her mind started to work again, and the rush of thoughts that hit her was staggering.
He was asking her to stay at his place. She didn’t for a second think it was anything other than a friendly invitation so she wouldn’t have to cab home. She didn’t for a moment think he wanted to sleep with her, that it had even crossed his mind, but the thought of staying all night with him made her heart race, even if it was just on his couch.
He brought them another round of drinks and she put hers on the table.
“I should check your arm before I have another.”
He just nodded and shifted so his arm was angled toward her.
“How does it feel?” she asked as she moved closer to him while he pulled up his sleeve. It looked okay. There was a little swelling, but even as she touched the skin around the stitches there was no heat and the skin wasn’t tight or hard. No infection had set in.
“Hurts.”
“Hurts how? Aching, sharp pain, burning?”
“Burning and aching.”
“Any trouble with movement?”
“My grip kind of sucks right now and it’s hard to lift my arm.”
“Is it because of weakness or pain?”
“Mostly pain.”
“No hot flashes, muscle cramps, dizziness or fever?”
“None.”
“There’s no sign of infection, and the pain and weakness is to be expected. It will take some time to heal, but it should be fine,” she said as she looked at him. She was acutely aware of the fact that she was sitting right in front of him, and was about to slide back to the other side of the couch when he reached around her and grabbed her drink off the table before handing it to her.
She wasn’t sure what to do. How to take that, so she just sat back where she was, hoping she hadn’t misread things.
Chapter Four
“You ever been in a situation like that before, where your life was threatened?” Tyler asked as he looked at her.
“Not like that.”
“But unlike that?”
She nodded. “But never with a gun. I’d never even seen one before, not in person.”
He was curious as to what had happened to her but he let it go. She obviously didn’t want to talk about it.
“You saw someone get shot. You had a gun in your face, and you tried to save a man’s life,” he said gently as he watched her eyes, trying to see how she was dealing with everything.
The first time he’d come face to face with a gun he’d had an entire unit with him, and he’d been wearing body armor and had his own gun in his hands. It had shaken him, and after the adrenaline had worn off he’d had a tough time forgetting. He still remembered it, and it had happened over fifteen years ago.
Kenzie was a nurse and a civilian. Being held up at gunpoint wasn’t something she’d ever expect to happen to her, and she had to be struggling with it.
“Yeah.” She nodded and took a drink. “Definitely not something I’d ever seen before.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she said quickly but wouldn’t look at him.
“Are you lying?” he prodded.
“Yes.” She nodded and looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to be a burden.”
“Why do I feel like you see yourself as a burden a lot?” he asked as he leaned back.
“Because I am.” She shrugged.
“How?”
He had no idea why he was trying to get her to talk. It was the same when he’d been telling her about his tours and his injuries. He never talked to anyone about getting hurt or what he’d seen or done over there, but something about her had made him want to open up and share with her.
He’d wanted to tell her, and he’d wanted to let her see him and know him. He had no idea why, but he felt connected to her, and that hadn’t happened in a long time.
He didn’t really like to deal with his own feelings. He certainly didn’t like to deal with them in others, and he really wasn’t the sit down and share your feelings type, but something about Kenzie made him want to know.
He could see there was a lot more to her than just a shy and slightly awkward nurse, and he was curious.
“I don’t want to lay all my crap on you.” She shook her head again.
“We went through something big, if you don’t talk to me who are you going to talk to?”
“I guess if anyone would know how to deal with it, it would be you,” she said thoughtfully.
“Not the first time I’ve been face to face with a gun, or the first time I’ve been shot at.” He shrugged and took a drink. “I thought I’d had the last, but never say never.”
“I don’t have any family, no real friends, and I haven’t had a relationship in years,” she started after a pause. “I didn’t think it was a big deal. It’s the way it’s been since I was a teenager, but what happened yesterday made me think.” She sighed and took another drink.
“What did it make you think about?”
“If I’d died, if I’d been shot in that robbery, no one would have cared. No one would have planned my funeral. No one would have buried me, and no one would have mourned me. I’m alone. I’ve been alone for so long, and until yesterday it didn’t really bother me. Then today I started thinking and…” she trailed off and sighed.
“What happened today?” he asked as he took a drink.
“We had that shower for my co-worker, the one having the twins. All the other nurses are either married or have kids or both. Only a few of the doctors on our floor are single without kids, but they weren’t there. I was standing there listening to everyone talking about their families and I had nothing to offer. It made me realize that I have no legacy. I have no one.” She blinked back the tears that were glistening in her eyes. He could see how upset she was, but she was keeping herself together.
“You want that?”
“I didn’t.” She shrugged. “I can’t anyways so it’s not worth wanting it.”
“Why can’t you? How old are you?” he asked. She didn’t look like she was too old to start a family.
“Thirty-two.”
“You still have time.”
“I can’t have kids.” She shook her head. “It’s medically impossible, and I’m not the girl guys look at so between what you see and what I can’t do, I’m not exactly what men are looking for.”
He just stared at her curiously. The more he learned about her the more questions he had, and between the uncharacteristic need to listen and talk with her and the four beers in his system he wanted to know more. And he wanted to help her feel better.
“Guys go for different things,” he said carefully. “Just because you’ve me
t a lot of assholes or men who are looking for something different doesn’t mean there’s not someone out there for you.”
“Yeah.” She shook her head and took another drink of her beer. “That might be true, but after—” She cut herself off and shook her head. “What about you, you want that?”
“I did,” he said honestly. “But now? No.”
“When we were in that store, were you affected?” she asked carefully.
“What are you asking?”
“Did it bring things back for you?”
“You asking if it triggered something?”
She just nodded.
“For a second there it did,” he said with a sigh. “For a second I was somewhere else, and it was something else I was seeing.”
“Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
“Are you lying?” she asked timidly.
“Yes,” he said after a pause.
The four beers in his system were starting to take effect and he was feeling them. His head was a little fuzzy and he felt that familiar flush on his skin that told him he was getting affected, but he still had enough control to know he wasn’t drunk, just a little buzzed.
That fact alone might have been the reason why he was sharing so much with a woman he’d only met the day before. A woman who was the opposite of what he normally went for. He wasn’t in the market for a relationship, he wasn’t even looking for a friend.
He wasn’t in the right place to give anyone anything, and outside of his buddies at the gym and his former corps mates, he was a shitty friend. He had so much going on in his life he had a hard time being there for someone else, and with his inability to reach out when he was hurting or struggling, he sucked at maintaining friendships. It had gotten to the point where he didn’t even bother trying to start new ones because he knew he’d just hurt people.
Kenzie was a good person with a big heart, he inherently knew that was the truth with her. She might not have a lot of people in her life, but she deserved to have someone who could be there for her. There was a part of him that wanted to try, but he didn’t want to hurt her more than she’d already been hurt. He didn’t want to be one more asshole on her list of people who’d disappointed her and let her down.