by Sam Destiny
“I’m not,” she grinned, “but thank you anyway. I needed to see all the shit you went through to realize that loneliness is something we can fight by allowing others in. And things will work out. For Tank, for me, for you, girl. You’re marching on, each day, and so am I, and I promise we’ll make this right. Our lives. Maybe not his, he has to take care of that himself, but I’ll make sure to remind him each and every time I see him of the fact he showed up drunk on my doorstep. He’ll love that.” She grinned and though last traces of sadness remained on her face, Tessa knew she meant every word.
“We will,” she agreed, hugging Hilary another time before letting her vanish in the bedroom.
This all sounded good, and they had been on a great way with Jazz, but still, as Tessa got ready for bed and finally slipped under the covers, she couldn’t deny that in the pit of her stomach a knot formed, creating a black hole that sucked up all happiness she’d gathered over the last few weeks.
It was dark outside when Jazz finally woke. He didn’t exactly feel pain, but the dull remainder stayed in his body, letting him know he was on painkillers, and rather strong ones, too.
His throat was the worst, and he reached up to his neck, finding him connected to a drip on the back of his hand. He stared at it in the faint light of the moon falling into his room through the window, then he cupped his neck where Caleb had tried to squeeze the air out of him.
“You won’t be able to speak for a while,” a female voice stated and Jazz shifted searching the room until a shadow dispatched from besides the door, coming to stand next to the bed. He didn’t need to see the face or anything else to recognize it.
Betty.
“Maybe it’s better you can’t speak. Then again, I can imagine what you want to know. Why Caleb is alive, how he found you, why he wanted to kill you. I guess the last one is obvious. I swear, I had no idea it was his plan.” Tears crept into Betty’s voice and she reached for his hand, but he pulled back. Her tone already told him she’d done something, and while he knew he’d deserved Caleb’s beating, he’d never be able to forgive Betty for having endangered Tessa and his son.
“He came to me here, and asked about you. Told me you checked on him. Told me you were his hero. He told me all kinds of lies. And I knew I wasn’t supposed to give out your address. I knew I should’ve recognized the insanity in his eyes, the burning anger, but I didn’t. I was upset with you for having moved on from our joined hell. You managed it. Standing in the door with Tessa by your side, saying that she could hear it all… I knew you’d done it. You made it. You maybe hadn’t reached the end yet, but you were on the best way while I wince every time someone says something wrong, or whenever a door bangs… and you left me behind in that terrifying world.
“I told him your address and only when he toppled over chairs on his way out, leaving fury in his wake, did I know I had messed up. But then I figured he wouldn’t attack you right away, or hurt you when Tessa were around.” She broke off there, probably to get control over her sobs, but Jazz didn’t care. He didn’t need or want to hear more. Angry tears left hot trails as they ran down his face and vanished in his hair. He’d fisted his hands to the point where the needle in one started to hurt. He felt blood drip down, probably marring the clean white sheets.
He’d never once made it. He had night terrors, and guilt that haunted him every step. Even more now, knowing he probably could’ve saved Caleb had he bothered to check his pulse, too. And just his presence had put the only person that mattered at risk, and for that he’d never forgive himself, either. Tessa couldn’t be his, because Caleb probably wasn’t the only one out there blaming him—and rightly so— for everything that had happened, for all the dead comrades.
“I told Ryan,” Betty finally continued while Jazz already reached for the button to call the nurse. If nothing else, she might at least escort Betty out of the room, and after that he’d make a demand, however he could, to never see her again and keep her away from him.
“Ryan left instantly, but the moment he came back he made sure everyone knew I had broken my vows and disclosed your whereabouts to someone who had no right to know them. I lost my position here, and chances are high that I won’t ever be hired as a doctor again. Maybe I’ll even be dishonorably discharged. Fair punishment, don’t you think? I know Tessa and the boy are fine because Ryan said so, but—”
The opening door interrupted her and Jazz couldn’t be gladder. The nurse came in, glaring at Betty after turning on the light, and calling security while doing so.
It surprised Jazz, but they actually had to drag her from the room.The nurse came over, glancing up and down his body.
He knew she’d see his angrily fisted hands, and his gritted teeth, probably even the veins in his neck sticking out because he had a hard time containing his anger and disappointment.
“You need more morphine?” she asked, reading the signs wrong, yet he nodded. Anything that promised him a reprieve was welcome now.
“I’ll be right back,” she assured him and he nodded, wondering if maybe she’d give him a lethal dose. Not on purpose, just one of those stupid accidents because she was overly tired.
Then though no one ever would have to hurt or die because of him again, and he’d never have to suffer through another nightmare—neither created by his mind, nor created by his life.
It simply would just end.
I woke up again. Damn, Jazz thought when he opened his eyes the next morning, sunlight filtering through the windows, warming the place of the blanket hiding his shins. Staring up at the ceiling, he sighed.
“You’re awake. Good morning.”
Jazz moved and felt legs poke against his hips. Sitting up a little, he spotted Ryan, groaning only to instantly stop as his throat protested in agony.
“Two, three, maybe four weeks you won’t be able to speak if you want everything to function properly again,” the doctor at the end of his bed stated. It made Jazz wonder—again—when they’d become best friends.
He nodded in acknowledgement for a lack of being able to do anything else, and Ryan threw a pad at him, followed with a pen.
“Here, so you can do something. Betty was let go, just so you know.”
Jazz scribbled something down on the pad, holding it so Ryan could see.
“Tessa? Perfectly fine. Shaken and furious, but fine. I think if she gets her hands on Betty, there will be a cat fight going on, and I swear, all my money is on your girl.”
Jazz didn’t even smile. Tessa couldn’t be his girl anymore.
Scratching out her name, he pulled up a knee, his body aching everywhere, and wrote more down.
Take care of her, okay? Someone needs to watch out for her and her son. Do not, under any circumstances, let her near me again. It might end with her being killed. Please, I am guilty of enough, but I could not survive knowing it goes on my consciousness that she was hurt. Make sure she becomes happy. You’re a decent guy, and I’ll hate you forever because you’ll touch her, but she deserves someone like you. Good, protective. If it can’t be me, I want it to be you.
And wasn’t that fucked up? However, Ryan could take care of her. He had a respectable job, a good heart, and always did what he thought was right.
He watched the doctor as he read over the lines, seeing the crease form between the dark brows, his eyes flashing dangerously black as he finally met Jazz’s gaze.
“You being serious? Besides the fact that Tessa is the last person you can just hand off to someone, you think I’ll let you be a coward and back out of this because it got tough again? Because you had a jealous comrade being utterly stupid?” Ryan snarled and Jazz arched a brow, pointing up and down his body. He hoped that would be enough to make a stand.
“Yes, that was a setback, but Jazz, you know he was wrong in his anger, don’t you? He was hurt, and his whole life turned upside down. Jesus, Jazz.” Ryan combed a shaky hand through his fingers and Jazz recognized the sign of barely concealed fury.
“W
as he right? No. Has he acted rational? No. But then, have you? I’m not trying to make excuses for him, or justify his actions. It’s more than clear your former comrade needs help, and not just a little. However, you need to realize this is not your fault. You don’t know if he would’ve hurt Tessa. You don’t know if… you know what? It doesn’t matter. You have come so damn far and you cannot stop here now. You cannot give up on everything you’ve accomplished.”
Ryan kept talking, but Jazz already scribbled more words down. He gritted his teeth against the need to vocally make his point, but he remembered the pain too well, so an angry scrawl was all he had. Holding the pad up, Ryan snorted a laugh.
“You killed those people? Caleb was right to be angry? More will come? Right, Jesse. You were the one firing the shots. You were the one throwing grenades. You were the one cutting up whoever was left alive. And about the fact that more will come… don’t you think they’ll have enough to do to deal with in their grief? God gracious, are you really ready to live with the knowledge of someone else touching Tessa the way you did?”
Of all the things Ryan had asked, this last one was the only question driving Jazz up the walls. He gripped the pen tighter, nearly breaking it while staring up at the ceiling again as if it would hold all the answers he didn’t have.
“You must not love her as much as she thinks or that thought alone should make you jump out of your bed and claim her on the spot.” Ryan stood, shaking his head. “Well then, fine. I’ll keep everyone away. I’ll just tell her that you decided she should fuck me. That’s what you said, right?”
Jazz winced, ready to roll of the bed and tackle Ryan, but his entire body was on fire with the movement.
“Oh, yeah, you didn’t get morphine yet because I had hoped we could have a normal conversation, one about what comes next, but yeah, that worked well. I’ll send a nurse. And don’t think you can get out of this, Jazz. You will have to face them all as soon as you’re better again, even if I now restrict visitors. You better hope your friends and family don’t give up on you just because you don’t know what lucky bastard you are, having walked out of hell alive.”
“You have no clue,” Jazz rasped out, each word like the cut of knife. No one did, and as much as his mother, Tank, or Tessa tried to understand, ultimately they couldn’t.
No one could, and at least that was a blessing because no one else deserved the pain he felt.
Tessa’s night had been plagued with the feeling of someone lying next to her. It was insane that she’d been with Jazz for two nights and already being without him felt as if it wasn’t the norm any longer, when that was a lie.
Ryan had called during the morning, apologizing for interrupting her so early, but telling her that she didn’t need to make her way over to the hospital. He promised to drop by later on and tell her more, and it was what she had to accept. If Ryan told her not to go there, she knew no one would let her into Jazz’s room anyway.
She heard her son down the hall, knowing Hilary had probably grabbed him from his crib before he’d started crying so she could sleep it. It hadn’t helped, because the nightmares of waking and finding the side that should be warm covered in blood instead had shaken her to the bone, and it had only ended with the vibrating of her phone.
Wrapping a cardigan closer around her body, she got to her feet and left her bedroom. She went down the stairs, wondering if she’d find Tank, and realized it smelled of eggs and bacon, the scent making her stomach growl.
“Tell me there’s coffee,” she called ahead before rounding the corner to spot Tank moving between the stove and the counter.
“Of course there is,” he replied, his tone clipped. She wasn’t the least bit surprised, but accepted the mug he held out to her. It was filled to the brim with the black liquid and she pressed her lips together. She still loved it with milk, and there was barely any room left.
“Ah, coffee. Thank God,” Hilary stated, coming in to grab the mug from Tessa before filling a new one with just the right mix. She winked at her friend, then handed the baby boy over. His cheeks were rosy and Tessa kissed his nose until he giggled.
“Sit and eat, I wanna be outta here rather sooner than later,” Tank ordered and the girls sat, John reaching for the fork that had already been placed on the table.
“That looks incredible.” Tessa admired the food as he put a plate in front of her.
“I like cooking, just never get around to do it,” he replied, grabbing his jacket, which had been neatly folded across the back of a chair, and went past them. “Thanks for letting me sleep here,” he gritted out and Tessa had to smirk, wondering how much it hurt Tank to thank someone for something.
“Better than sleeping in the street,” Hilary told him, her mouth full. “God, this is good,” she then added, and Tessa, who’d been watching Tank in the doorway, saw him smirk with pride before turning away.
“Never gonna happen again. I’m out.” He accentuated his words with the bang of the front door and Tessa shook her head.
“His day is not gonna get better,” she whispered, watching as her son stretched for the eggs, but couldn’t quite reach them.It was good that way, otherwise she’d be showered in food before being able to enjoy a single taste.
“What do you mean?” Hilary wanted to know, pausing with her fork on the way to her mouth. It was hard to believe, but she’d nearly polished off her plate already.
“Jazz refuses to see anyone. Ryan called to let me know so I wouldn’t make my way there for nothing.”
“It’s starting again.” Hilary’s voice was a whine and Tessa couldn’t blame her.
“Second shoe, remember? I wondered if it was going to happen. I admit I didn’t plan on a dead comrade returning to life to ruin it all, but I figured that it would just take one thing to make Jazz doubt it all again. I read a lot about PTSD in the last months, and most pages actually agree that the tiniest thing can annihilate the whole progress, and this wasn’t just small thing. This time though I need him to come to me, because I can’t do it again. No one can help him if he doesn’t want help, and forcing things on him might just make it worse,” she explained gently. As much as it hurt her to think about not seeing Jazz, not talking to him, she’d been close to breaking after his return, and couldn’t do it another time. She’d make sure he knew he could always call her up, could always come to her, but she couldn’t start over again, going to their house, hoping to see him, only to be distraught when he refused.
Hilary grabbed a bacon strip off Tessa’s plate and chewed on it, the crisp sounds making Tessa’s stomach rumble yet again. “You sure this is smart?” she asked and Tessa shrugged.
“I tried it one way and it didn’t work long term. I’m trying a second way now. I need to know Jazz wants us because he loves me, and that he is going to fight every damn day of his life if that’s necessary. I’ll be there, holding him through night terrors and whatnot, and I’ll get him back from the edge each and every time he needs it, but first he needs to show me that this is going to be us going all in. No lies, no secrets. I need to know all that is going on in his head, every terrifying detail, because otherwise I cannot help him.
“Was this weekend what I thought it would be? Yes, but there were moments when I knew he hadn’t forgiven himself the way he needed to.”
Hilary stood, clearing away her plate before taking John away from her, nudging at Tessa’s food. Only it hadn’t been her son keeping her from eating. Making herself pick up her fork, she tried the now cool eggs and still had to admit they tasted incredible, with cheese mixed in to make it creamer than she’d expected.
“Do you honestly think this is the best? Leaving him alone now?”
“He didn’t kill those people, Hilary. No matter what he thinks.”
Her friend was silent for a while, then she cleared her throat. “Have you ever, for the briefest moment, considered that maybe he had?”
Tessa kept eating, her eyes on the yellow eggs and the crisp bacon.
> “Do you honestly think that Jazz forgot to check the cars? Or worse, took the time to manipulate them? What would’ve been the goal? His reason?” She’d never once doubted he was innocent, even if he thought differently. Maybe she should’ve bothered to talk to Betty about that, but now she’d no longer be able to without seriously injuring that woman.
“He wanted to be home,” Hilary whispered. “He calls it hell where he’s been. That says it all.”
She had a point, but Tessa had to admit that all she knew about was the day he’d got injured. “He has his trauma from that day, Hils, not the others. He never dreams of any other times, just variations of the moment his unit and others were in an ambush. You think that this was what he aimed for?”
“No, I didn’t say that. All I’m saying is he couldn’t have known that this would be how it ends for him,” Hilary pointed out.
“People who do things in cold blood don’t have nightmares from it. You need to be a somewhat decent person to get a trauma, and Jazz is a decent person. As much as he maybe had wanted to get home, I doubt that he’d have gone through those drastic measures.” She couldn’t and wouldn’t buy into that belief, no matter what.
“All I’m saying is maybe that is the reason why he pushes you away. This was war down there, Tess. Body parts, blood, and gore all the way. He was desperate, and desperate people do stupid things. He maybe just wanted them to be injured.”
“We weren’t there, Hils, and we won’t find out unless Jazz talks. And I swear, until he doesn’t say those words himself, that he did it on purpose, I’m not going to believe anything else.”
Hilary watched her while she finished her breakfast, the child having fallen asleep in Hilary’s arms, and Tessa couldn’t help but think she was glad he was still too small to catch on to what was happening with his father.
“Well, girl, then we need to make sure Jazz is as convinced about his innocence as you are, and I know you have no idea how to do that, but trust Miss Hilary. She already has a plan.”