by Andria Large
Iraq begins to fade away, and the restaurant comes back. I’m on the floor, curled on my side, my hands covering my head. Everyone in the restaurant has stopped and is staring at me.
“Tucker?” Rhys asks again.
I slowly uncurl and push up into a sitting position. I glance around at all the concerned and uncertain faces.
“What just happened?” Rhys asks gently, holding out his hand.
“The… uh… whatever crashed… sent me back,” I mutter as I let him help me up.
“A flashback?” he asks, dumbfounded.
“Yeah, I started getting them when I got my hearing back,” I explain quickly. “I need some air,” I croak and head for the door instead of sitting back down.
I push through the door and stumble out onto the sidewalk, covering my face with shaky hands. Jesus Christ, I can’t believe that just happened. It’s one thing for it to happen in Duke’s kitchen, but it’s completely different in public with my brother, who has no idea what I’ve been through. I take a few deep breaths, hoping to calm my racing heart.
Someone clears their throat behind me. I whip around to see an older man, probably in his early seventies, standing behind me, his gray eyes shimmering with understanding. He gives me a small smile.
“You all right, son?” he asks gently.
I pull in a shaky breath and swallow hard. “I… I think so.”
“Everyone is concerned about you.”
A bitter laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “Yeah, they probably think I’ve lost my mind.”
He shakes his head. “The man you’re with explained that you’re a veteran.”
I nod. “I am. That crash in the kitchen sent me into a flashback.”
“I completely understand. Captain Charles DuPree.” He holds out his hand to me.
“Gunnery Sergeant Tucker McCoy,” I reply with a smirk as I shake his outstretched hand.
“Good to meet you,” Charles says with a smile.
“You too, sir.”
“Don’t give me that ‘sir’ crap,” he snorts and waves a dismissive hand.
I chuckle.
“Come on, let’s go back inside and eat,” Charles says and puts his hand on my shoulder.
I hesitate. “I don’t know if I can go back in there. That was really embarrassing.”
“You were at war. You’ve seen and done things nobody in that place is capable of. There is nothing to be embarrassed about.”
I reluctantly let Charles—the symbolism of him having the same name as the friend who saved my life is not lost on me—lead me back into the restaurant. I’m met with a standing ovation, claps on the back, and handshakes as I walk back to my table. I’m stunned and humbled. And when I sit back down at my table with my brother, I’m fighting back tears. Charles gives my shoulder a squeeze before returning to his table with his wife.
The manager of the restaurant approaches with a soft smile on her face. “Sir, we want to thank you for your service to our country, so your meal is on the house.”
I give her a watery grin. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
With a nod, she walks away. I look across the table at my brother. He’s watching me, his eyes rimmed with tears.
“I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through to make you have flashbacks like that,” he murmurs.
“And you will never know,” I whisper.
“You still won’t tell me?” He frowns.
I shake my head. “You don’t want to know, believe me.”
“I want to understand, though, Tucker.”
I give him a tender smile. “Rhys, no offense, but you will never be able to understand, whether you know my stories or not.”
I can tell Rhys wants to argue, but he decides against it. Our waiter returns and takes our order. Halfway through our meal, Charles and his wife stop by our table to say good-bye to me. Then once Rhys and I are finished and assured that the cost is taken care of, we make our way to the hospital.
After visiting with Mom and my dad for a while, I head home. I’m exhausted. Utterly drained by the time I walk through the door. Duke is sprawled out on the couch, his back resting against the arm as he writes in his journal. Duke has always kept a journal, even in Iraq. He writes in it every night. He glances up when he hears me come in.
“Hey, bud. How’s it hangin’?” he says in greeting.
“It was a horrendous day,” I grumble and flop down on the other couch.
He frowns. “What happened?”
“You mean besides visiting my dying mother in the hospital?” I huff.
“Yeah, besides that.”
I roughly scrub my face before looking around. “Where’s Dennis?”
“Folding clothes in your bedroom. Now talk to me.”
“I had another flashback. This time I was in a restaurant with Rhys.”
“Shit,” he hisses.
“Exactly.”
“What did you do?”
“Took cover under the table when they dropped something in the kitchen that crashed,” I reply dryly.
“Damn.”
“Yeah, I was mortified to say the least. I ran outside and an older man followed me out. Want to know what his name was?”
Duke tilts his head in curiosity. “What?”
“Charles.”
A slow smile curls his lips. “No shit?”
“Yeah, he’s also a Marine. Captain Charles DuPree. He talked me into going back inside, where I got a standing ovation and a free meal.”
“Well, that’s a coincidence. Someone must be looking out for you.” Duke grins, pointing toward the ceiling.
I smile. I have to agree. I think Chuck definitely had a part in what happened today.
“Have you told your therapist about the flashbacks?” Duke asks.
I groan. “I haven’t gone in about six months.”
“What? Come on, man! You need to go. Especially now that you got your hearing back.”
“I will call tomorrow, I swear.”
“You better,” he grunts, pointing his pen at me.
I shove to my feet. “I’m going to go see Dennis.”
“Okay, but if you’re going to fuck, can you please keep it down? My ears bled last night because of you two.”
I bark out a laugh as I make my way down the hallway. “No promises.”
He grumbles as I head into the bedroom.
DENNIS
I GLANCE up as Tucker walks into the bedroom, stupid grin on his face.
“What’s so funny?”
“Duke said we made his ears bleed last night.”
Laughing, I shake my head.
I watch as Tucker undresses. I’m sitting on the bed, folding the last of my laundry and putting it into designated piles.
“So how was dinner with your brother?” I ask.
Tucker frowns hard, his brows furrowing. He stays silent for a moment as he unbuttons his dress shirt, and I’m not sure whether he’s going to answer me. That’s not a good sign. What the hell happened at dinner?
“I had another flashback. Curled up under the table when something crashed in the kitchen.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, that’s what Duke said too,” he muses.
“Are you okay?”
“I am now.” He shrugs.
After a few minutes of silence and Tucker undressing, he finally lifts his troubled gaze to mine.
“Rhys said something to me tonight.”
“Okay,” I reply hesitantly.
“He asked how you were doing, and I told him how you need more help than normal. He asked what I meant, and I told him like in the shower. It just slipped out, and it was totally innocent, but what he said next has really been eating at me.”
I nod and wait. I can see Tucker is struggling with how to say it. He won’t even look at me. Shit, this must be bad.
“Just repeat what he said.”
He sighs heavily. “He said, ‘Dude, don’t tell me you’re in there washing
his balls because I swear to God, I will disown you.’”
I suck in a sharp breath at the harsh words.
“He was laughing when he said it, but I know he meant it.”
“You think so? Do you honestly think he would disown you for being with a guy?”
Tucker shakes his head. “I don’t know. He’s said other homophobic things over the years. I’ve never had to worry about them before, so I just ignored them.”
Fuck. This leaves us in a very shitty spot.
“I don’t even know what to say,” I whisper.
Tucker snorts. “Other than the fact neither he nor my dad can know about us, I don’t know what else to say either.”
“But what if they start questioning why you never have a girlfriend, or if you’re ever going to get married—”
“I can’t think about that right now, Denny,” he blurts.
Jesus, this could be so bad for us. What if they find out and ask him to choose, them or me? Who will Tucker pick? I doubt it will be me. They’re his fucking family. But then again, he’s in love with me. Could he really give me up that easily? My heart says no. But my mind—that fucking bastard—thinks he would let me go in a heartbeat if his family asks him. Or maybe that’s my own insecurities talking.
Tucker rakes a hand through his dark hair, messing it up more than it already is. “We just… we have to keep us a secret from them at least until all of this shit with my mother is done. My dad doesn’t need any more stress right now.”
“Whatever you want, love. I’ll do whatever you want.”
I hold out my hand to him. Tucker takes it without hesitation and lets me tug him into me. I grab the back of his neck, pulling him in for a tender kiss. He leans away from it and drops his forehead to mine.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I reply.
TUCKER
THE NEXT morning, after I take a shower and get dressed, I walk out into the living room, where I find Duke huffing and puffing to himself as he makes eggs and bacon. I watch him for a minute, an amused smile on my face. I’m only catching a word here and there, but I’m pretty sure he’s talking about me and Dennis.
“Hey, bud, problem?” I ask, making my way over to the coffeemaker as I finish fixing my tie.
Duke shoots me a death glare. “Problem? Why would I have a problem? I’m all fucking unicorns and rainbows here, my man.”
I jerk my chin back and fight off a laugh. “Oookay.”
I grab a mug from the cabinet and move in front of the coffeemaker.
“I swear to God, Tuck. If I have to listen to one more night of you and Dennis fucking, I’m going to lose my damn mind.”
I bark out a laugh as I pour myself a cup of coffee.
“Didn’t you find an apartment yet?” I ask.
“Yes, I did, but I can’t move in right away! I need to buy furniture and shit, so I’m stuck here for at least another week or so.”
“You do have a house in Baltimore, you know.” I chuckle.
“No, fuck that. I can’t go back there. Just thinking about it makes me depressed.”
I frown. “You do know you’re going to have to go and pack up all your shit, right?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m hiring a moving company. They go in, pack the whole place up, and then drive it up here.”
“Hmm,” I hum, impressed. I didn’t know there were companies that did that.
“Is there any way you and Dennis can just give it a rest for a couple of days?” he pleads.
I give him an incredulous look. “Are you insane? There is no way in hell I can resist that tight ass,” I say, knowing full well what the effects on Duke will be.
Duke gags exaggeratedly a few times. I can’t help but laugh.
“I hate you. I hate you and your stupid gay dick,” he grumbles as he stabs at the scrambled eggs he’s making with the spatula.
I almost spit out the coffee I just took a sip of with that last comment.
“Why do you have to buy new furniture? Why not use what you have?” I ask him.
“I’m starting fresh. New apartment, new furniture, new life for Duke,” he mumbles.
I nod. “I like it. Sounds like a good plan.”
“You know what a good plan would be? Keeping your dick in your pants while I’m still here. Now that’s a good plan.”
I laugh. “You do know that you giving me a hard time about this makes me want to do it more, just to fuck with you, right?”
Duke turns his hazel eyes to glare at me. “I will stab you to death with this spatula, Tucker,” he threatens, holding up said spatula, which has egg stuck to it.
I slap a hand over my mouth to stop from bursting out laughing. How he can keep a straight face when he says things like that is beyond me.
“I need to get to work,” I choke and set my half-drunk coffee in the sink before starting for the door.
“Yeah, you better get the hell out of here, fucker,” Duke calls after me. “I’d hate to have to kill my best friend with a spatula.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
DENNIS
THANKSGIVING KIND of snuck up on us. With everything going on this month with Tucker’s surgery and my accident, it got shoved to the back of my mind. Lizette is having dinner at her and Beau’s place. She, of course, invites Tucker and me, and Duke. Duke declines the invite, saying his mother threatened him with bodily harm if he doesn’t show up there for dinner.
Tucker is staying with his dad and brother at the hospital. I offer to go with him, but he insists they’ll find it weird if I’m there with them instead of my family. Because in their eyes we’re just “friends.”
I’m sitting across from Lizette and adjacent to Beau, who is at the head of the table. It’s only the three of us. Beau invited his mother, brother, and sister to come up, but they’re kind of snowed in at the moment.
I pick at my food, not feeling very hungry. I hate that Tucker isn’t here. It doesn’t feel right celebrating one of our first major holidays as a couple apart.
“Dennis, what’s wrong?” Lizette asks. “I didn’t make all this food for you to eat like a bird.”
I sigh. “I wish Tucker was here.”
“He’s with his family, Dennis. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Everything is wrong with that. The only reason I’m not with him is because his family doesn’t know about us.”
Lizette and Beau give me a confused look. “Why don’t they know? You guys have been together for almost a year now,” Beau says.
“Tucker thinks his brother and father will freak out and disown him when they find out,” I answer.
“Why would he think that?” Lizette asks.
“His brother has made some comments over the years about gay people. Not so nice comments.”
“Oh,” she replies.
“I’m afraid this thing with his family is going to drive a wedge between us,” I say softly, staring down at my plate.
“You guys are pretty solid. I have a hard time seeing that happening,” Beau says reassuringly.
“Just take it day by day, Den. His mother is the most important thing on his mind right now,” Lizette adds.
I nod. “I know.”
After dinner, I ask Beau to take me home. I’m really not great company right now. Lizette packs me up a bunch of leftovers and gives me a kiss before shooing me out the door. She knows me well enough to know I just want to go home and brood. Beau had to pick me up earlier and now has to drive me home, since I don’t have a car… or a good leg to drive with. So fucking annoying. I know he doesn’t mind, but my new prosthetic can’t come fast enough. Beau helps me bring the leftovers up to the condo before giving me a hug and leaving me to myself.
I’ve only had this cast on my left foot for about a week and it’s already pissing me off. The kneeling crutch is a nuisance because every time I sit down, I have to take it off and then put it back on when I stand. Pain in the ass!
I sit on the c
ouch and turn on the TV. I’m not even watching what’s on. My mind is racing with all the horrible scenarios that might happen when Tucker’s brother and father find out about us. Obviously, worse case is that he leaves me. I don’t know if I can handle that. He’s my forever. I can’t lose him. I just can’t.
TUCKER
I STILL can’t believe my mom has lasted this long. It’s been over a week since she was admitted into the hospital. And even though she’s not conscious, she’s still breathing on her own. The doctors are surprised but are sure she’s on her way out.
It’s a pretty shitty way to spend Thanksgiving too. Selene brought over containers of food she made, and we are all eating out of Tupperware in my mother’s hospital room. This is not how I pictured I would spend my first Thanksgiving with Dennis.
I could tell he was upset when I told him I didn’t want him to come with me. But I didn’t want to raise suspicions. It definitely would have been odd to my brother and dad for Dennis to be there with me. It kills me to have to hide this beautiful, loving relationship, but I just can’t chance it right now. Our family has already been partially torn apart because of my mother’s illness. This would only serve to completely break it. I don’t think I can handle that. Especially right now.
The condo is dark when I walk in. The only light is coming from the TV. Dennis is sitting on the couch, his right leg tucked under his left, while his left foot rests on the coffee table. He slowly lifts his eyes to meet mine. I frown when I see how closed off he is. Usually he shows me what he’s feeling though his eyes. But not now.
“Hey, how was dinner?” I ask as I shrug out of my coat.
He lifts one shoulder. “Fine,” he answers, his tone flat.
After hanging my coat in the entry hallway, I move to the kitchen for a beer. I could so use a beer. I grab two, open them, and make my way over to the couch, where I sit next to Dennis and hand him one.
“Thanks,” he mumbles before taking a swig.
“Wanna tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?” I ask, turning to stare at him after taking a sip of my beer.