Talon

by Delisa Lynn

  “Jesus, Kole, I’m so fucking sorry you had to do that. That you have to go through this. I told the coroner that was Sherrie. Let’s get you home, man,” he says as he hands me a few paper towels.

  Everything I’d ever known and loved was gone in mere seconds, all because of my job. My fucking job cost me the love of my life.

  Lopez offers me a ride home, and I gladly accept. Once we pull into the driveway, I feel sick. This is the house I purchased with my wife, the house she wanted. The house we were going to raise our children in.

  “You need me to come in with you, brother?” He exits the truck.

  “No, I need to do this on my own. I…I’ll call you later. Please, keep Kathy safe.” I slam the door and walk up the driveway. This house is all Sherrie talked about for months. Once we put the offer in and they accepted, she was beyond ecstatic.

  Unlocking the door, I step inside, and her scent hits me like a wrecking ball. Locking the door, I grab the bottle of vodka off the liquor rack and head directly up the stairs. I take a quick glance at our bed then turn and walk into the guest room, crawling into that bed instead. Turning my phone off, I toss it on the floor. Opening the clear fuel, I down it.

  My best friend, my wife, my soul mate—just a memory now.

  ***

  TWO YEARS LATER

  My life was almost complete. My wife had just become a nurse practitioner for one of the best hospitals in Ohio, and we’d decided it was time to have a baby. We both loved kids, and I knew she would be an amazing mother. But we never got that chance. It was taken in the blink of an eye. That bullet was meant for me. That weighs on my mind daily. All the what if questions clog my brain. What if she hadn’t been in the wrong place at the wrong time? What if I hadn’t been in that particular location? What if… it had been me? How would she have dealt with it? How would she have dealt with it, I know I sure as hell have been a fucking mess since that horrible September day.

  After leaving the force, I became severely depressed. Verge of suicidal depressed. Hell, who wouldn’t be? My wife was gunned down in front of me, after all. Liquor became my best friend, and one-night stands keep my dick happy. But is my heart happy? Fuck no. I’m too broken on the inside.

  Love? What the hell is that? I know there will never be anyone I can love as I did my wife. Will I ever give love another shot? Maybe, depending on the woman. But it’s already been two years, yet no one has caught my attention.

  I started working at Layton Fire Department sixteen months ago. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a fireman or a policeman. Lucky for me, I’ve been able to do both. I can honestly say that being a fireman has been better than the eight years I spent on the force, plus the two as a detective.

  Being a firefighter/paramedic is a rewarding career. I can help save lives. But there are others we can’t save, can’t get to in time, and those are still on my mind. When I was hired, I was told to drop the patient off and never think of them again. That’s easier fucking said than done. Many nights, I wonder if Sally, John, or Jane is even still alive if they were able to get a new home. Shit like that plays over in my mind. One thing I can say about my career change is that since I’m not a detective, my family will be safe. I can never put any of them in the line of fire again, as my wife was.

  This is the stuff you think about after you’ve been up for over thirty-four hours and worked all fucking night. Today starts my four-day-off rotation, so I decide to shower here at the firehouse before I swing by Paula’s and grab a drink on the way home. I’m meeting my brother-in-law and some other friends for drinks tonight, but I need one now. I don’t hang out with them much; I tend to shut them out unless my sister is making me food.

  I was never like this before. I was a family man, loved family gatherings, holidays, and game nights. My mom and sister have begged me to see a shrink, but how will that help? I’d sit in a room and tell some stranger—who I’m over-paying—my problems. I can sit and tell my dog, and he’ll listen for free, as long as I feed his ass.

  I can’t lie and say I haven’t thought about it, though. The thought has crossed my mind… once.

  OTHER BOOKS BY DELISA LYNN

  EMBRACING SERIES

  Treasured

  Salvaged

  Destined

  Fated

  Healed

  Borrowed

  BENTON CREEK SERIES

  The Ocean Between Us

  Until Then

  Need more sensational material?

  Turn the page for an excerpt from A. Gorman's

  A GENTLE TOUCH

  Coming Fall 2016

  DEDICATION

  To all of those who didn’t return home…

  In Memory Of:

  Matthew B. Judd

  April 29, 1980 – June 21, 2014

  Until Valhalla

  CHAPTER 1

  The relentless heat wore on me, no matter what time of day. Back home, the summer heat was humid and in the low nineties, but here, it’s nothing for it to be one hundred degrees and dry. I placed my pack on my back, picked up my standard issue gun, and made my way to the awaiting convoy of Humvees that will take us on our mission.

  “I’ve got shotgun. I need to take pictures for the commander’s report,” Sargent Amelia Natti called out.

  “Seat whore.” I smirked.

  “Fuck off, Gervais. Your pretty face is riding in the back. Wouldn’t want to mess up your hair or anything.” She knocked on my helmet and gave me a wink then went back to her paperwork.

  “Ass kisser,” I said as I puckered up my lips to her as I stepped by her.

  Amelia Natti had been through it all with me, boot camp, sexual harassment, being one of the guys…you name it. We had each other’s backs, especially when we went out on missions, because some of these guys—unit, insurgents, and civilians—didn’t want us here. Gone were the days of having privacy and self-pride. Being a female in the military wasn’t easy, but I wouldn’t change what I do for anything. I loved serving my country and working with the civilians that did want us here.

  “Are you getting in the vehicle today, princess, or are you waiting for your knight in shining armor?” Nattie smirked as looks at me

  “There are no knights around here. Just wannabes,” I quipped.

  “You got that right.” Natti grinned at me.

  “Natti, what would you know? You haven’t had a hot dog since the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile made a stop in your hometown when you were sixteen,” the third member of our little group, Jeremy Barret, teased as he walks up to the truck.

  “You’re just jealous I won’t touch your mini hot dog, Barret.” Natti shook her head as she continued her paperwork.

  “Mini my ass. Ask Gervais about my hot dog. It’s all she—”

  “Hey, leave me out of this. That was a one-time, in the heat of the moment deal.” Ass.

  “That’s not what you said when I was fu—”

  “Ladies, are we ready?” Staff Sargent Sanchez hollered to us, stopping Garret from rehashing our night of drunken sex.

  “Yes, sir,” we answered in unison, and Sanchez walked away from us, shaking his head.

  Opening the door to jump in the vehicle, the scalding hot air from the inside greeted me even though it’s early in the morning. I grabbed my notebook out of my breast pocket and scribbled down a few notes so I could include them into my correspondence tomorrow when I complete my duties of being the unit correspondent and administrative sergeant.

  Garret hopped in the Humvee and cranked over the engine to the hunk of metal that’s older than I am. The vehicle roared to life and the thirteen-vehicle convoy trekked outside of the base to our single day mission in a city that’s an hour away.

  Our mission was to reach out to the people of the community to get Intel if insurgents were making their way back into the area. People talk when they are offered things in return for their information, especially food. The bumpy road to the city soothed my nerves and I allowed myself to relax, and I closed m
y eyes as we headed to the city.

  Gunfire jolted me awake and my finger instantly rested on the trigger of my gun. Excitement filled the locals as the fired their guns. They were happy to see our convoy enter their city, because they knew that it meant water, food, cigarettes, and more.

  I relaxed back into my seat and pulled my backpack into my lap, pulling out a headscarf from the side pocket. Even though it wasn’t mandatory, I wore the scarf out of respect. I placed it over my helmet and covered my neck and bottom part of my face, and I wished that the earlier enthusiasm was all we had to deal with on this mission.

  As the Humvees stopped outside of the city’s gathering place, swarms of people of crowed around us. We could feel the energy of the people all around. Children ran around, laughing and screaming because they knew the soldiers would give them extra attention.

  Their innocence reminded me why I did my job, why I killed the evil in their country. I often hoped that one day that the children of the world wouldn’t have to live with the pain of war or hunger. One day, it would happen.

  ***

  I looked out the window as the convoy drove down the crater riddled road we were on no more than twelve hours ago, and worry set in my stomach as the truck stopped bouncing over the holes. The road was smooth, lacking holes, and looks freshly leveled.

  “Hey, stop… Don’t go any farther—”

  The air in my lungs vanished with the exuberant exhale that escaped my mouth as our Humvee went flying in the air. Burning pain radiated throughout my body, especially my legs; blood and equipment toss all around me as parts of the Humvee sliced into my skin.

  I’m unable to speak as the deafening explosion filled the interior of the truck. A scream strangled to come out of my throat as we began to roll and roll and roll…

  My body came to an abrupt stop as I hit the ground, my head sinking into the sand. I opened my eyes and looked over to see the truck that I was in on fire, in pieces along the road. Sand and dust flew around me long with mortar shells and pieces of metal. Small arms’ firing reverberated everywhere and I couldn’t tell who was shooting what or where. I tried to move to a trench that I knew was on the side of the road but I couldn’t move.

  My body felt weightless then I felt nothingness, and I looked down, seeing my mangled body as a third person voyeur. Willing my hand to touch my face and only a ghostly haze passed in front of my eyes.

  I couldn’t feel my heart beat.

  Everything around me went black… I was dead.

  I awaken with a jolt, but my eyes wouldn’t open.

  Sweat clung to my skin.

  I was suffocating.

  Pain radiated from my hips all the way down to my toes. I tried to move my foot, but it wouldn’t respond to my commands. Forcing me to remember where I was and relive the hellish nightmare all over again.

  I wasn’t dead, but I wished I were.

  CHAPTER 2

  “Evie, darling, can you hear me? Your dad and I are here. We love you very much…”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Gervais? I’m Doctor Smitt. I’m glad that you could make it here. Sargent Gervais is a trooper. She lost a lot of blood. Luckily they got her to Germany in time or she…” I couldn’t remember any more of the conversation between Dr. Smitt and my parents. I was in and out of consciousness. All I could remember was how bad my leg hurt, but on day four, I woke up.

  “Evie,” my mother cried out with tears running down her rosy cheeks.

  The expression on her face would be a look I’d never forget. The look was a mixture of overwhelming joy and sympathy. Joy that I was alive, and sympathy that I wasn’t the same…I’d never be the same.

  “Mom.” A simple statement, the only statement my dry throat would allow me to say.

  The following forty-one days consisted of the same cycle: wake up, eat, dress, physical therapy, rest, try to eat more, more physical therapy, try to eat even more, shower, and sleep. Forty-seven days had passed since the Humvee I was in ran over an IED in the road, killing my best friends in the process. Every night since I’d been conscious, I relived the deadly nightmare in my head.

  I struggled daily with wanting to live, the voice in my head told me it would be okay to die. The weekly counseling and the daily, grueling physical therapy that I’d gone through was allowing me to leave this hospital in Virginia today, and return home to Georgia. Home as a civilian, something I hadn’t been for eight years, once the medical board approves the medical discharge Dr. Smitt had requested.

  Every night, I laid awake questioning the God above why me—why had I survived and no one else from that vehicle. Remorse of not saying good-bye to my friends cut through me—they went in the ground and I was here, in this room, breathing, alive. They’re dead, and nothing can change that. Nothing.

  The nightmares were vivid. Their screams echoed in my head. They’ll never leave me, making me wish that I was dead too. Guilt consumed me from wishing I were dead instead of being alive. I tried to make sense of it all, but nothing made sense, I just wanted to be home…where I prayed I could outrun the bad dreams that plagued me.

  Pain shot through my leg, and I bent over to touch the marred flesh on my right leg to soothe the ache. A piece of flying debris ripped half of the calf muscle from my leg, and scarring from the skin grafts cover the where the muscle used to be. From my hips down, shrapnel scars riddled both legs. Gone are my smooth, long toned legs from running track in high school. These legs are ugly, and I walked with a limp.

  My parents are thankful I’m alive, scars and all, but they’re exhausted. For the past month, one of them had been here with me at all times. One week Mom stayed, the other week Dad stayed. For the first week I was here, they both stayed, but someone had to return to run the ranch because of birthing season.

  As much as I wanted to get out of this hospital, I’m not excited to return to my parents’ ranch. I rather go to my apartment where I wouldn’t be tempted to be outside working with the farm hands or riding horses, instead of staying off my feet to let my body heal.

  “Evie, darling, you ready to go?” my mom asked as she walked through the open door of my room with Nurse Grace in tow.

  “Yes, I’ve been ready since six hundred hours.”

  “I gave your mom all your paperwork, instructions, orders for therapy, and prescriptions.” Grace smiled. “Well, give me a hug. I’m sure going to miss you.” She embraced me tightly and wiped tears from her eyes after she let go.

  “I’ll miss you, but not this place.”

  She laughed. “I understand. Please take care of yourself and to call of you need anything.”

  “Okay, I will. Thank you for being here for me, I appreciate everything you’ve done.”

  “It’s not a problem, and don’t forget when you get settled in at Fort Valley to look up Mutts for Vets. I really think having a four legged companion might be good for you.” She put her arm around my shoulder and gave me a gentle squeeze.

  “We’ll see.” I rolled my eyes. The last thing I needed was some dog to care for. How was I supposed to care for a dog when I couldn’t care for myself?

  “Mrs. Gervais, I put the number for Cain Graham with Mutts for Vets in the paperwork I gave you. I gave him a call to let him know to be on the lookout for you.”

  “Thank you so much, Grace. I think it sounds like an excellent idea for Evie, and I appreciate you taking care of my baby.”

  “It was my honor, ma’am. Now let’s get her home. Evie, I’ll grab a wheelchair and you can be on your way,” Grace said as she left the room and returned with a wheelchair.

  I stood slowly to make sure my legs would support my weight and got into the wheelchair. Grace pushed me in the hallway where nurses and doctors hi-five me on the way to the elevator. Once in the elevator, it whisked us away to the first floor, and she pushed me to the entrance where Mom’s rental was waiting for us. Mom walked around us and opened the door for me to get in.

  “I mean it, Evie, don’t hesitate to call us if you need
anything. The local VA will be there for you too.”

  “Thank you, Grace.” I stood and get into the car like an older person would. Next stop, the airport…then I’d be home.

  CHAPTER 3

  Everything was exactly as I left it the last time I was here two years ago. The beige walls, along with flowers and balloons people have sent here for the well wishes, greeted me as I entered the room I lived in for nineteen years of my life. Ribbons and trophies from track still shined brightly on the shelves where I placed them many years ago. Pictures from high school graduation and basic training sat on my dresser, and I limped to the dresser to pick up the picture of Amelia and me.

  Two girls stared back. We were so naïve, so unprepared for what the world was going to throw at us. We did the best we could, and I wished we could have both made it out alive. The void in my heart caused by her and Jeremy’s death wouldn’t be filled anytime soon.

  You could be with them. There’s a loaded gun in your parents’ room. You won’t be in pain anymore. The voice in my head tried to take over, begged me to end my life. I wouldn’t be a burden to my parents if I would do it, end it all.

  I clutched the picture in my tight in my hand and hobbled over to my bed, and unceremoniously fall on top of the comforter. As I closed my eyes, I placed the picture on my heart and begged the voices not to haunt me here as I felt myself falling asleep. I dreamed of my parents’ life without me—suicide wasn’t an option—I couldn’t break them like that.

  The sound of voices outside of my room woke me, followed by a soft knock on the door.