“Jay,I had no idea. I was just…”
Pleasedon’t leave.
Butbefore I know it, he’s out the door, leaving me standing in the living room,stark-naked, hating myself, still reeling from the shock of my nightmare. Ilean against the wall for the support. The only thing that’ll be supporting mefor the rest of the night.
20
Jay
Itoss my shirt on and head to my car.
Ihad to get out of there since all I wanted to do was deck Reese. He didn’t hurtme on purpose. I keep reminding myself that, but that doesn’t change the fact thatwhen he socked me, I was transported back to a night when I fought against Dadto get to Todd—to help my brother.
Ishake so much it takes me a few tries to get the key into the car door. Itreminds me of how Reese gets when he has one of those flashbacks to Iraq.
Ican’t believe he hit me.The thought replays over and over again in my head asI get in the car and curl up in the driver’s seat, locking the door.Idon’t think Reese will do anything to me. I just feel like I need to besomewhere safe. Somewhere alone.
Isit in his driveway, confused as shit, my body racing through so manyemotions—excitement, rage, confusion. I shouldn’t blame Reese since I know whatit was—another episode—but I can’t help what I’m feeling toward him. Hurt.Anger. Those wounds are worse than any shiner I might have tomorrow.
I’mrelieved that Reese isn’t coming outside to make amends.
Iconsider driving off, but I can’t leave him. Not tonight. Not when he asked meover to be here for him. But I keep slipping back to that night, feeling Dad’sfists against me, and seeing what I would soon discover was my dead brother’sbody.
I’mtrapped in that night all over again.
Itry to stop the thoughts, but they race through my mind, unbidden, making me hateReese even more for making me suffer through this. I cringe and my chestconstricts.
Getyourself under control.
Iball my hands into fists, the pain in them and in my cheek the only relief Iget from the thoughts that race through me.
Fuckyou, Dad. Fuck you for making me so fucked up. Fuck you for sucking all thegood out of this world…for tearing it from my life.
Afterseveral minutes, the thoughts settle. I can breathe with ease again as thetension in my chest relaxes.
I’msweating. Panting. I didn’t notice before. Was too consumed by the thoughts topay much attention to what was going on around me.
WhenI regain my bearings, I step out of the car and head back to the house.
Iwish I hadn’t needed to leave like that. Reese needed me to be there for him.Needed me to console him. He obviously had some horrifying nightmare thatresulted in him losing his fucking shit, and I bailed on him.
Iopen the door and head back inside, searching around for him.
Silence.Eerie silence.
Theair conditioning chills the moisture from the sweat I built up outside.
Icall out for Reese, but he doesn’t respond. I search for him, but he’s not inthe bedroom or anywhere inside the house.
AsI head into the kitchen, I notice through the sliding glass door on the backwall that a light is on, illuminating the back porch.
Strangeto think that as much time as I’ve spent over here, I’ve never actually been inhis backyard. I’ve seen him working in the garden through the window behind thesink, but never had any reason to go out there.
Iwalk to the door and peer through it. A few yards away, Reese sits in thefenced-in garden, illuminated by a security light attached to a nearby shed.
Iwalk to the garden, and as I come to the fence, I open it and step along anarrow board that acts as a divider between different rows of plants. Reesesits in just a pair of boxers, his hands-free crutch strapped to his residuallimb as he leans back against a wooden beam that the chicken-wire fencing isstapled to. As I approach, he doesn’t glance up. Just stares at a couple ofbush beans at his side.
“I’msorry for running out like that,” I say.
