Hours turned to days. Days into weeks. Three to be exact. Three long weeks of work and sleep with small amounts of food in between. I missed him. At night in bed, my mind began its cruel torture of imagining him hurt or worse. I hated not knowing. Dec hadn’t heard either.
Living at Mac’s had its advantages. Company, for one. If I’d been at my apartment, alone, I’d surely have gone stir crazy by now. Even with my hectic schedule. On days off, Mac made sure we remained busy.
It was Sunday morning, early. I hadn’t slept well. I’d had a weird feeling most of the night I couldn’t explain. Uneasiness, I suppose could best describe it. Just the sensation of something not being right. After fruitlessly attempting sleep but doing nothing except tossing and turning, I got up and now sat in the kitchen at Mac’s with a steaming mug of coffee in my hand, hoping it would dispel the disquiet.
Movement to the side had me look up, catching sight of Dec. He smiled and rubbed at his eyes before spying the freshly brewed coffee pot.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, wearing only boxers. I’d had to get used to his half-naked body around all the time because when he was here, he always seemed to be shirtless. Not that I minded. He was all kinds of hot. But he was very much my best friend’s, so I kept my thoughts to myself. Besides, Viper had wormed his way under my skin and appealed to me way more.
Shrugging, I sipped my brew. “Nah. You?”
Pouring his coffee, he sat opposite. “Comes with the territory. I have nights where I don’t get any, and others where I sleep like a rock. Having Mac next to me helps.” His eyes crinkled when he said my friend’s name. He loved her so much.
Suspicion clouded his eyes. “You okay? You seem to have settled in here really well. You seem…happier. Why the restless night?”
Dec was easy to talk to. Sometimes I felt better talking to him than Mac…just to have a male perspective on things. Mac had a way of getting me to bare my soul at times, but with Dec I didn’t need to.
“I’m not sure. I began feeling unsettled before I dozed on and off. It stayed with me all night, and even now, I can’t shake it, you know? I just hope Viper is okay.”
His right eyebrow rose into his growing fringe. Since I’d moved in, his hair had grown out, curling slightly at the ends. “You’re worried about Viper?”
“Aren’t you?”
Swigging his caffeine, he looked down at the table, then back up at me, taking a deep breath.
“Well, yeah. I mean, I guess. It’s not something I dwell on, but then, I’ve been where he is now. I’ve lived it. It’s a job. I know how capable he is, so I don’t think about it too much.”
Just then Mac appeared in her tank and sleep shorts, eyes half-closed. “What are you guys doing? It’s six o’clock on Sunday.” She walked to Dec and placed her arms on his shoulders, standing at the back of his chair.
“We both couldn’t sleep. I got up and smelled coffee, so it led me blindly to the kitchen.” Dec touched both of Mac’s hands affectionately. God, I wished I had what they had.
I looked away because of the twinge of jealousy that reared its head. They both deserved all the happiness in the world after they’d fought so hard to be where they were today.
She leaned down and kissed his head, then went and poured her own cup. “Well, I’m up. Might as well join you guys.”
Dec piped up, “So, are we still on for the Street Art Fair today?”
We’d agreed to go to the week-long street art fair today. It was held every July in Ann Arbor. A great way for local artists to display and sell their wares. I’d always loved arts and crafts but had always been too busy with my career to dabble. Getting to browse and purchase others’ masterpieces was the next best thing.
Glancing at Mac, she nodded, knowing how much I’d been looking forward to it. “Hell yeah. Wouldn’t miss it.”
***
At ten o’clock we were wandering amongst some of the region’s finest artists and their creations. I felt in my element. I’d forgotten about the creepy, anxious sensations plaguing me and reveled in the color and ingenuity of the stalls. Music could be heard from a stage nearby, and the atmosphere was electric. Dec had bought us all coffees as we carelessly strolled and chatted, remarking on beautiful items and the more eclectic ones. A charming piece caught my eye. A gem in its own right, I stopped at a handmade jewelry stand. Hanging in front of me with the sunlight catching it sat the most beautiful amethyst necklace I’d ever seen. Masculine in its appearance, it hung on a black cord and had two metal squares similar to dog-tags on either side. I had to get it for Viper. The oval polished amethyst had healing qualities to help reduce stress, anxiety mood swings, and other mental issues. I figured it might help Viper sleep at night and his PTSD.
Picking it up, I let it sit on my palm, feeling its texture and weight. Something drew me to it, whether it was the stone itself, or the significance of the design, I couldn’t be sure.
“It’s a lovely piece, that one,” the smiling woman, serving, said.
“It is. Do you make all these yourself?”
“Yes.
“They’re gorgeous. I’ve never seen anything quite like this before.” I held up the necklace. Mac and Dec had stopped and backpedaled to stand by my side.
“Wow. I love it,” crooned Mac, moving in for a closer look. Grinning, she lifted her gaze to mine. “I’m gathering it’s not for you?”
Shaking my head, I didn’t need to say anything. It was obviously a masculine piece.
“I’ll take it.” Giving it to the lady, I pulled a fifty dollar bill from my purse and handed it over. She placed it in a small black pouch and gave me ten dollars change.
A small price to pay for something so extraordinary. I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to give it to Viper, but buying it and keeping it fortified in my mind that he had to return home now to accept his gift. Kind of like a good omen.
Dec stayed quiet about the purchase. I didn’t know what he thought about me purchasing it for his friend, but I didn’t care.
We strolled around the rest of the exhibits and before we knew it, lunchtime had rolled around. My loud, rumbling stomach let it be known how hungry I had become.
“You up for some cool vegetarian food?” Mac queried.
“Since when have you ever turned away from meat?” I knew she liked a good steak like the rest of us.
“I’m not fully vegetarian, but I’ve been thinking of it for a while now. Come on. There’s a great little café just up ahead. It serves the best food you will ever have.”
Tagging behind, I pulled out the necklace again, turning it beneath my fingers. I hoped he liked it. If not, I’d have to find someone else to give it to.
A cell pealed out, and at a quick glance, I could tell it was Dec’s.
He stepped away, checking the screen, answering in a low voice.
I looked at Mac and she simply said, “One of Viper’s private phones he gave Dec before he left. Dec lost his during his attack.”
Okay. I wasn’t aware he had his military cell on him, but I guess he had to just in case.
Leaving him on the sidewalk, Mac and I made our way to the café and headed inside to find a table.
“He’ll catch up,” she answered to my silent question of wondering if Dec would know we’d gone on ahead.
“Do you think they’ll send Dec overseas too?” I asked, looking around the busy café and sniffing in delightful aromas of coffee and fresh food.
Vegetarianism must be thriving, judging by the patronage and fast-paced atmosphere. We sat at the only vacant table with four seats at the back. Dec still hadn’t arrived, so Mac and I picked up a menu, ready to order.
My friend didn’t look too concerned at my question. “He’s got a twelve-month reprieve due to his recovering gunshot wound and mental state after the amnesia, abduction, and memory return. He’s safe for a while yet.”
“Will it bother you if he gets called away down the track when he’s fit for duty again?” She hadn�
��t experienced her man off to war yet. She’d only witnessed first-hand the effects it had on her soldier. I imagine she’d be just as worried as I was about Viper fighting for his life and country. Who wouldn’t be? And I wasn’t even Viper’s girlfriend.
Breathing out hard and pinning me with an intense stare, she answered, “I hate the thought, to be honest. I don’t want him to return to duty, but I know I can’t ask him to leave, either. It’s his life. I’ll be a mess the whole time he’s away. It’s a case of when, not if.”
“I understand you’d never ask him to give it up, but hypothetically speaking, do you think he would if you did ask?”
Leaving my gaze for the menu on the table, she turned it over, stalling. “I’m not sure. Part of me would like to think so, but deep down I get how important it is to defend his country. It’s a part of him.”
She appeared troubled by it, so I changed the subject. “Do you think we should wait to order? For Dec?” I asked.
“Nah. I’m starved. He won’t mind if we start.”
I didn’t want to think of the future when she’d lose her man to another mission. I struggled with the ‘no contact’ rule every day. I just needed to know Viper remained safe.
A waitress came over and took our orders. I decided on a pumpkin salad, and Mac ordered a chick-pea burger with a healthy vegetable juice for each of us.
The waitress had just taken our menus and was walking to the kitchen when Dec appeared. His face had drawn in, his eyes dark and dangerous. His entire energy had shifted from relaxed to extremely tense. Mac sat up straight, noticing too.
“Hey. Everything okay?”
Dec sat down heavily opposite me and something in my psyche cracked. My heart upped its tempo as blood surged. The earlier sensation of anxiety escalated.
His jaw held firm as he ground out. “Viper’s been injured. Stepped on a land-mine.” He dropped his head, and I couldn’t tell if he was crying or not. My stomach left me and my lungs expanded on a loud gasp.
“What? Is he all right? When did this happen?” I felt sick.
Mac had a hand to her throat, her eyes wide and fearful. Her other hand went to Dec’s shoulder.
When his head lifted, pain mapped his features. “He’s being flown to Germany from Iraq. His leg…”
The room spun. Sounds evaporated, except for Dec’s voice and all of our breathing. My fears had been confirmed. The odd sensation I couldn’t pinpoint. Had it been a forewarning?
Shit. No. I had to be dreaming.
“His leg?” Mac spoke when I couldn’t.
“It took a lot of the blast.”
A whimper escaped. Nausea lifted to my throat and I had to swallow thickly to avoid throwing up. Tears welled in my eyes at the horror of what Viper had gone through. Was still going through.
The only thing I could think of to ask was, “Why Germany?”
It sounded dumb.
“The nature of the injury. A lot of troops get sent to Germany if they have extensive trauma.”
Fuck! I didn’t swear often but my head was full of fucks.
“Do you want to head home?” Mac asked, attempting to be the strong one. God bless her.
Fisting his hair, Dec shrugged. “I don’t know what the hell to do. My best buddy is on route to fricking Germany and here I sit, in a café in Ann Arbor, and there isn’t a thing I can do to help him or comfort him.” His fists clenched and unclenched, leaving his dark strands a mess.
Not hungry now, I agreed.
“Let’s get our food to go and head home.”
Mac nodded. “I’ll go and let the waitress know to pack it up.”
How things could change in an instant! I remembered Viper jogging at a preposterous hour of the morning on my way home from work. His strong, toned legs had carried him forward with ease. Now…perhaps he’d never run again. Never serve again. The military would pension him off. He’d have to start over.
A million thoughts vied for a space in my head. Vaguely I heard Mac motioning me up, before gripping my arm and leading me out, after handing Dec a large white bag with our food.
The drive home passed in a sea of visions. Imagining what Viper had gone through. The pain. Had he been alone? Had he been conscious? How long had he lain injured? What ran through his mind?
“Pull over!” I yelled, feeling the bile rise.
Dec turned sideways attempting to look at me in the backseat. “What? Why?”
Mac looked at me and must have seen the look on my face. “Pull over. Now.”
The car swerved and came to a stop along the gutter of a street not far away from the apartment.
Thrusting the door open, I barely made it out when I retched. Doors opened and closed. Acid lodged in my throat as my stomach turned over again. A warm hand landed on my back, rubbing.
“Char? You okay?”
Why did people always ask that? Blind Freddy could see I was far from fine. Retching again, I willed my stomach to settle while taking deep breaths. The cool air helped.
My brain couldn’t shut off images of Viper being blown up. The more the movie played on continuous loop, the more nauseous I became, until the contents of my stomach abruptly let fly all over the freshly mowed grass outside a modest suburban house.
My hair lifted out of my face courtesy of one of my friends. I couldn’t tell who it was because my head stayed downcast, my hips bent forward.
“It’s okay. Just take a moment and keep breathing,” Mac soothed. “I have some antacid tablets in my bag. I’ll get them.”
She moved away, leaving me with Dec, who I quickly found out was the one holding my hair. It made me love him that little bit more.
“Thank you,” I offered, the deep, prolonged breathing finally beginning to take effect.
“Sure. I guess the news of Viper’s accident has hit a nerve, huh?”
I didn’t answer. Of course it had hit a nerve. Who wouldn’t be upset over the news of someone they knew? I didn’t want to explain just how much the news had hit me.
Mac touched my arm. “Here. Chew this tablet. It should help settle the acid back down.”
I took the chalky pill and stuck it under my tongue, disliking the taste.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” Lie. I knew damn well.
Standing fully, I waited for the dizziness to fade and began shuffling to the car. I didn’t miss the look between Mac and Dec. As if they knew exactly why I’d become sick. They weren’t stupid.
I just wanted to get back to the apartment, take a shower, go to bed, and wake up to discover it had all been a bad dream. Wishful thinking.
Chapter Eighteen
Viper
Heat. Desert dust. Rigged to kill. I was in my element. After a successful brief, and a long flight, I arrived at our base, or rather our shanty of tents hidden in the belly of the surrounding Afghan mountains. Even under the canopy of night, a hive of activity surrounded me and the fifteen other soldiers who’d been brought in to assist with a ground attack on a rebel group who were trying to take a town over the other side of the ranges. We had a two-hour hike ahead of us. Brutal conditions existed in this part of the world. Only the tough survived. We were the toughest. Two tanks were preparing to assist with the takeover. I preferred to be on foot. To feel the earth underneath. Instead of having armored steel around me, my inner warrior preferred the thrill and risk of being a target. Most men in my unit felt the same. The fear of not knowing one second from the next if a bullet or bomb would take you out.
Sick, I knew, but that was me.
I’d slept a good portion of the flight, knowing it would probably be the most I’d get for a while. In between waking and dozing, thoughts had switched to Char. I wondered what she was doing. Had she settled in at Mac’s? I shouldn’t have been letting my mind wander, but I couldn’t help it. Leaving her had been harder than I imagined. A piece of my heart had been left back in Ann Arbor and I wasn’t sure how to process it.
I was a world away from the com
fort of her arms, yet I could still smell her perfume, mixed in with the smell of sweat, artillery, and the constant threats of war.
“Soldier! You with me?” barked my commanding officer.
“Yes, sir!” I responded.
He glared at me under the spotlight that lit up the sergeant’s tent, attempting to believe my half-truth. No. I couldn’t let Red ruin this for me. I needed full focus. Sucking in a couple of deep breaths, I settled. My hand came up to clasp my dog tags, grounding me again. Char was safe at home where she belonged. I had a job to do, and I needed to do it efficiently.
Leaning into me, my boss whispered in my ear, “You can’t handle the heat, go home.”
It was that simple. I wouldn’t let him or my team down.
Pushing all thoughts of Char away, I nodded. “I’m fine, sir!”
“Make sure you are.”
Leaning away and moving down the line of soldiers standing at attention, he yelled, “Anyone else need to run home to Mommy?”
Not one person moved an inch. We all wanted to be there. We all had the same separation anxiety issues.
Once Sarge seemed satisfied we were all in compliance, he proceeded to inform us of our mission.
“We attack from the east. Take out the entire cell. No prisoners. I repeat. No prisoners. It’s going to take some time. Weeks. I suggest you get comfortable in your new home, boys. We head out in approximately,” he glanced at his watch, “one hour and forty minutes. Dismissed.”
We saluted our leader and filed away to our digs. I shared with three other guys, two of them I’d worked with before.
***
Same situation as other times. We trudged on foot to our destination. Night goggles on. The clock had read one a.m. when we’d left camp. Rigged up to the hilt. Fifteen soldiers. Men with lives back home. Parents. Wives. Partners. Children. To look at them now though, none of that existed. Only the battle ahead. The realness of the moment. Nothing registering but every tiny sound. Every movement. Our weighted gear keeping us grounded.
In another ten minutes, we’d be in enemy territory. The surrounding terrain held no life. Sparse. Rocky. The ridge up ahead would lead us to a very dim view of the village, overtaken by rebels who had no idea we were almost upon them. With a partial moon, we had to rely on our source, who’d infiltrated the town weeks earlier. He was our eyes and ears. We wanted to strike at night with the element of surprise. Hopeful that most of the rebels would be asleep, we’d take out the ones left to keep guard.
True Beginnings (The Lost and Found Series Book 3) Page 12