And with that, my eyes began to water, and the first tears fell.
“The betrayal shook me to the fucking core,” I said. “I lost my ability to trust at all. My two best friends were among the dead. I lost my faith in the United States military. My CO was eventually put to death, but it didn’t bring back my friends. Nothing will.”
And now came the part of the story that was probably going to scare Kaitlyn away forever, but there was nothing to be done about that. She’d wanted to know the story? She was going to get every detail.
“When I returned to my wife, I had lost my faith in faithfulness. I didn’t cheat on her, but I distanced myself from her. I got cold. I got rude. If she said she was going to the grocery store for half an hour, and she showed up thirty-five minutes later, I’d think she was delayed by hooking up with someone at the grocery store. It was all bullshit, of course, but I couldn’t handle it. At first, I kept these thoughts inside, but over time...”
I shook my head in disgust at myself.
“I got help, and yeah, it worked a bit, but it was too late. Jennifer divorced me and left me, and I didn’t blame her or feel mad even the day of. Granted, this was years ago, so I’d like to think we’re both in better places now, but I haven’t spoken to her since the day the courts made it official, and I don’t have a desire to.”
It was like I was back all those years ago, witnessing the judge declare us divorced and Jennifer walking out, barely looking at me—but I got a glimpse enough to see how much hurt I had caused her.
“And now, here I am,” I said. “I’m able to hide the trauma of that story pretty well, frankly. You probably never guessed it at first. And that’s because I fought like hell to hide it not just from others but from myself. Lane’s my best friend in the whole world right now, and even he doesn’t know the whole story.”
Finally, the perception of reality and reality itself had merged into one.
“I don’t want Lane thinking I don’t trust him, because after all these years, after all the hell I’ve been through, I finally feel like I’m in a spot where I can begin to trust again. But...”
It’s not my place to share club business here. I will not tell Kaitlyn like Lane told Angela. Even if we were married, that’s not my job.
But, then again, I guess this is just proof that no one but me will ever truly know the whole story—from the day of the initial skirmish up to the present betrayal. This is my burden, my cross, my hardship to carry for the rest of my life. It’s my experience to see my superiors betray me for personal gain.
Shit, what if Lane is the rat?
I vigorously shook my head at that notion. That was fucking impossible. Axle was... no. Butch, Father Marcellus, Red Raven, one of the club members...
Who betrayed you in Ramadi? One of your peers? Or your CO?
I was starting to fear that I was beginning to lose my mind.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” Kaitlyn said. “You want to go home? This place will only make you more stressed. Devon will take care of the wounded, and Lane will handle the rest. Everyone who needs intensive care has got it. No one else will die here tonight.”
Lane... He could be the fucking spy… If so…
“Sure,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”
But I only agreed to leave because I didn’t feel like I had a firm grasp of reality at the shop.
Shit, I wasn’t sure I had a firm grasp on anything these days.
Kaitlyn
This is the time to do it.
This is the time to tell your story.
He shared his. You share yours.
As I drove my car with Michael in the front seat, recovering from the revelations that he had told me, I was reduced to silence. I didn’t know if that was what was best, but it seemed to be the only thing to keep Michael steady. Still, I worried that the silence was just allowing him to dwell in the darkness of what had happened before.
If it was true that this was the first time he’d told the story to anyone, then maybe it was a necessity for him to have silence. Maybe this quiet peace that he was having, away from the club, away from the chaos, was what he needed to begin to heal.
Hell if I knew. I was a nurse, not a shrink. I could help him take meds or know what would be good for an infection, but I wasn’t great at helping him find the answers to his emotional peace. I couldn’t even help myself with that.
I started to doubt if telling him the story of Kristina and Jason was appropriate. Would it be as if I was trying to steal his thunder and one-up him? Or would it show that I was vulnerable and open?
I had no idea.
