“Oh, yeah.” He smiles at her. “They smell funny.”
“Plus, they’re ugly,” Becky adds.
God, I want to kick my brother’s ass. “It’s done. She’s barely speaking to me.”
“Not because of the flowers, man,” Ben says weakly. He tires easily. “Your brother said some pretty terrible things to her.”
“What’d he say?” Becky’s got her hands on her hips, and if I could see her feet from where I’m sitting next to Ben’s bed, I’d bet you a hundred bucks her toe is tapping impatiently. So, I tell her the same story I told Ben, adding important details, like about the wedding dances, as I go. By the time I’m done, he’s asleep.
Becky’s face, well, it’s a combination of sadness and disappointed. “You may not come back from that one, Alec. If she’s the kind of person you described—shy, inexperienced, and introverted—I’d bet your brother hit a nerve.”
I feared that too.
“What should I do?”
Becky crosses her arms over her chest. “Let me give it some thought. She reminds me of me before Ben drew me out of my shell.” She gazes at her husband. Once again, her face morphs into something soft, but there’s still sadness there. “I’m so glad he made it. So what if he can’t walk? There’s no shame in that. He’s a fucking hero, Alec.” A tear slides down her cheek. “We’ll have to move. A two-story house won’t work. Lots of people are paralyzed. It’ll just be our new normal. As long as he’s with us, we’ll be fine.” Several more tears fall. I’m not sure I’ve seen her cry until now. Except for that first night, Becky’s been solid as a rock.
“You’re right, Becky. He’s here with us. That’s all that matters.”
“We should probably sell the house and move to Maryland. The army says we can stay in military housing while he goes through rehab. It’s going to take months. I’m not sure I can be away from him that long. Not to mention, the kids need their father.”
“Then you should do that. What do you need from me?”
Her eyes leave her sleeping husband and turn to me. “I do need your help, Alec. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”
“Anything.”
A small smile appears on her face. “I’ll make you a list.”
“Great.” I nod and stand. “I’ve gotta go. Shift starts at eleven hundred hours.”
* * *
My new partner,Jim, is an asshole. I hate his fucking guts, and we just met two hours ago. He keeps talking aboutthatnight with Ben like he knows what went down. He doesn’t. He just transferred over from Bliss two days ago, and he’s already rubbed me the wrong way about fifty times.
“I’ll tell you what, if that were me and you left me hangin’ like that to deal with the perp on my own while you crawled around on the sidewalk outside, well, I wouldn’t hesitate to—”
“To what?”You motherfucker.
He chuckles, and it sounds fucking smarmy. “Oh”—he glances over at me—“I don’t know. I just need to know you’ve got my back, buddy. The trust just isn’t there for me.”
A) I’m not your “buddy.” B) Without a doubt, the feeling is mutual. Wejustmet. And C) I’m not sure I’d race to Jim’s rescue either.
Fuck. That’s not true. Of course I would. Please don’t take that statement to heart. It’s in my DNA to help. He’s just pissing me off, that’s all.
There’s so much shit rolling around in my head right now. Maybe I came back to work too soon? The captain said I could stay on desk duty for a while, but I refused. I thought I was fine. It wasn’t me who was shot. The thing is, now that I’m sitting in the car with Jim, I’m not sure I can deal with a new partner, at least not this one.
And then there’s the whole question about whether or not I want to be here, if I want to be an MP anymore. Ben was the reason I couldn’t decide whether or not to turn in my paperwork. I didn’t want to leave him here to deal with an asshole like Jim. Now he’s the one leaving. There’s nothing tethering me to the army anymore.
As this new dickhead drones on about responsibility and expectations, I take some time to ponder my life. My future. I’m still within the window of time where I can inform them I want out, that I’m done. Hell, I could do it tonight. Those blank discharge documents have been sitting in my locker at the station since I got back from my brother’s wedding. I could go back to the station, sit at an empty desk, and do it. Holy shit, I could turn in those papers tonight.
The second the decision is made to do just that, the sense of relief is overwhelming and instantaneous. It’s like a weight has dropped off my shoulders. The realization and acceptance that I’m truly done with the army, that I’m ready for something new, hits home. I’ve probably been ready for months; I was just afraid to admit it.
Without looking at the fucker next to me, I flick on the blinker and prepare for a U-turn. “Hey, I’m not feeling so good.” In all my life, hell, my career, I’ve never feigned ill. “I’m heading back to the station. I think Simmons is around. He can take you out on patrol tonight.”
Simmons owes me a favor. A big one. This will settle it nicely.
“You’re sick and you’ve let me drive around in an enclosed space with you for the last hour?” Jim sounds pissed.
